v^ 

From  Books 


Rudyard  Kiplln 


SO 


TMl 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 


Books  by  Rudyard  Kipling 


ACTIONS  AND  REACTIONS 
BRUSHWOOD  BOY,  THE 
CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS 
COLLECTED  VERSE 
DAY'S  WORK,  THE 

DEPARTMENTAL  DITTIES 
AND  BALLADS  AND  BAB- 
RACK-ROOM  BALLADS 

FIVE  NATIONS,  THE 
HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  A 
JUNGLE  BOOK,  THE 
JUNGLE  BOOK,  SECOND 
Jusr  So  SONG  BOOK 
JUST  So  STORIES 
KIM 

KIPLING  STORIES  AND 
POEMS  EVERY  CHILD 
SHOULD  KNOW 

KIPLING  BIRTHDAY  BOOK, 
THE 

LIFE'S  HANDICAP:  BEING 
STORIES  OF  MINE  OWN 
PEOPLE 


LIGHT  THAT  FAILED,  THE 
MANY  INVENTIONS 

NAULAHKA,  THE  (WITH 
WOLCOTT  BALESTIER) 

PLAIN  TALES  FROM  THE 
HILLS 

PUCK  OF  POOK'S  HILL 
REWARDS  AND  FAIRIES 
SEA  TO  SEA,  FROM 
SEVEN  SEAS,  THE 
SOLDIER  STORIES 

SOLDIERS  THREE,  THE 
STORY  OF  THE  GADSBYS, 
AND  IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 

SONG  OF  THE  ENGLISH,  THE 

STALKY  &  Co. 

THEY 

TRAFFICS  AND  DISCOVERIES 

UNDER  THE  DEODARS, 
THE  PHANTOM  RICK- 
SHAW, AND  WEE  WILLIE 
WINKIE 

WITH  THE  NIGHT  MAIL 


Songs  From  Books 


By  Rudyard  Kipling 


GARDEN  CITY        NEW  YORK 

DOUBLEDAY,   PAGE  &  COMPANY 

1912 


Copyright,  1891,  1893,  1894,  1895,  1896, 1897, 1899, 1900, 

1901,  1904,  1905,  1906,  1909,  1910,  1912,  by 

RUDYARD  KIPLING 

All  rights  reserved,  including  that  of 

translation  into  foreign  languages  t 

including  the  Scandinavian 

REPLACING 
3  7 


I  I      «      •         * 


9' 
\< 


PREFACE 

I  have  collected  in  this  volume  practically  all 
the  verses  and  chapter -headings  scattered  through 
my  books,  with  the  exception  of  the  Jungle 
Books  and  the  Just  So  Stories.  In  several 
cases  where  only  a  few  lines  of  verse  were 
originally  used  I  have  given,  in  full  the  song, 
etc.,  from  which  they  were  taken. 


M93913 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 


CONTENTS 


SONG 


BOOK 


"Cities  and  Thrones  and  Powers" 

The  Recall 

Puck's  Song 

The  Way  Through  the  Woods 

A  Three  Part  Song 

The  Run  of  the  Downs 

Brookland  Road 

The  Sack  of  the  Gods 

The  Kingdom 

Tarrant  Moss 

Sir  Richard's  Song 

A  Tree  Song 

Cuckoo  Song 

A  Charm 

The  Prairie 

Cold  Iron 

A  Carol 

"My  New  Cut  Ashlar" 

Eddi's  Service 

The  Fairies'  Siege 

Mithras 

The  New  Knighthood 

Harp  Song  of  the  Dane  Women 

Chapter  Headings 

The  Thousandth  Man 

The  Winners 

A  St.  Helena  Lullaby 

The  Captive 

The  Puzzler 

Hadramauti 


Puck  of  Pook's  Hill 

Actions  and  Reactions 

Puck 

Rewards  and  Fairies 

Puck 

Rewards  and  Fairies 

Rewards  and  Fairies 

Naulakha 

Naulakha 

Plain  Tales 

Puck 

Puck 

Heathfield  Parish  Memoirs 

Rewards  and  Fairies 

Letters  to  the  Family 

Rewards  and  Fairies 

Rewards  and  Fairies 

Life's  Handicap 

Rewards  and  Fairies 

Kim 

Puck 

Actions  and  Reactions 

Puck 

Rewards  and  Fairies 
Story  of  the  Gadsbys 
Rewards  and  Fairies 
Traffics  and  Discoveries 
Actions  and  Reactions 
Plain  Tales 


CONTENTS 


BONO 

Gallic's  Song 

The  Bees  and  the  Flies 

"Our  Fathers  Also" 

A  British-Roman  Song 

A  Pict  Song 

The  Stranger 

"Rimini" 

"Poor  Honest  Men" 

"When  the  Great  Ark" 

Prophets  at  Home 

Jubal  and  Tubal  Cain 

The  Voortrekker 

A  School  Song 

"A  Servant  When  He  Reigneth" 

"Our  Fathers  of  Old" 

The  Heritage 

Song  of  the  Fifth  River 

Chapter  Headings 

The  Children's  Song 

If 

The  Prodigal  Son 

The  Necessitarian 

The  Jester 

A  Song  of  Travel 

The  Two-Sided  Man 

An  Astrologer's  Song 

"The  Power  of  the  Dog" 

The  Rabbi's  Song 

The  Bee  Boy's  Song 

The  Return  of  the  Children 

Old  Mother  Laidinwool 

The  Looking-Glass 

The  Queen's  Men 

The  City  of  Sleep 

The  Widower 

The  Prayer  of  Miriam  Cohen 

Gow's  Watch 

The  Wishing  Caps 


BOOK 

Actions  and  Reactions 

Actions  and  Reactions 

Traffics  and  Discoveries 

Puck 

Puck 

Letters  to  the  Family 

Puck 

Rewards  and  Fairies 

Letters  to  the  Family 

Puck 

Letters  to  the  Family 

Collected 

Stalky  &  Co. 

Letters  to  the  Family 

Rewards  and  Fairies 

The  Empire  and  the  Century 

Puck 

Puck 

Rewards  and  Fairies 

Kim 

Traffics  and  Discoveries 

Collected 

Letters  to  the  Family 

Kim 

Rewards  and  Fairies 

Actions  and  Reactions 

Actions  and  Reactions 

Puck 

Traffics  and  Discoveriea 

Puck 

Rewards  and  Fairies 

Rewards  and  Fairies 

The  Day's  Work 

Various 

Many  Inventions 

Kim 

Kim 


CONTENTS 


SONG 

"By  the  Hoof  of  the  Wild  Goat" 
Chapter  Headings 
Song  of  the  Red  Warboat 
Blue  Roses 
Butterflies- 
My  Lady's  Law 
The  Nursing  Sister 
The  Love  Song  of  Har  Dyal 
A  Dedication 
Mother  o'  Mine 
The  Only  Son 
Romulus  and  Remus 
The  Egg-shell 
The  King's  Task 
Poseidon's  Law 
A  Truthful  Song 
A  Smuggler's  Song 
King  Henry  VII  and  the  Ship- 
wrights 

The  Wet  Litany 
The  Ballad  of  Minepit  Shaw 
Heriot's  Ford 
Frankie's  Trade 
The  Juggler's  Song 
Thorkild's  Song 
Song  of  the  Men's  Side 
The  Four  Angels 
A  Song  of  Kabir 


BOOK 


Plain  Tales 


Rewards  and  Fairies 
Light  That  Failed 
Traffics  and  Discoveries 
Naulakha 
Naulakha 
Plain  Tales 
Soldiers  Three 
Light  That  Failed 
Many  Inventions 
Letters  to  the  Family 
Traffics  and  Discoveries 
Traffics  and  Discoveries 
Traffics  and  Discoveries 
Rewards  and  Fairies 
Puck 

Rewards  and  Fairies 

Traffics  and  Discoveries 

Rewards  and  Fairies 

Light  That  Failed 

Rewards  and  Fairies 

Naulakha 

Puck 

Rewards  and  Fairies 

Actions  and  Reactions 

Kim 


CITIES  AND   THRONES   AND  POWERS 

Cities  and  Thrones  and  Powers, 

Stand  in  Time's  eye, 
Almost  as  long  as  flowers, 

Which  daily  die; 
But,  as  new  buds  put  forth 

To  glad  new  men, 
Out  of  the  spent  and  unconsidered  Earth 

The  Cities  rise  again. 

This  season's  Daffodil, 

She  never  hears, 
What  change,  what  chance,  what  chill, 

Cut  down  last  year's: 
But  with  bold  countenance, 

And  knowledge  small, 
Esteems  her  seven  days'  continuance, 

To  be  perpetual. 

So  Time  that  is  o'er-kind, 

To  all  that  be, 
Ordains  us  e'en  as  blind, 

As  bold  as  she: 
That  in  our  very  death, 

And  burial  sure, 
Shadow  to  shadow,  well-persuaded,  saith, 

"  See  how  our  works  endure  !" 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 


Songs  from  Books 


THE  RECALL 

I  am  the  land  of  their  fathers, 
In  me  the  virtue  stays. 
I  will  bring  back  my  children, 
After  certain  days. 

Under  their  feet  in  the  grasses 
My  clinging  magic  runs. 
They  shall  return  as  strangers, 
They  shall  remain  as  sons. 

Over  their  heads  in  the  branches 
Of  their  new-bought,  ancient  trees, 
I  weave  an  incantation 
And  draw  them  to  my  knees. 

Scent  of  smoke  in  the  evening, 

Smell  of  rain  in  the  night, 
s 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

The ,  houjrs, ,  the  days  and  the  seasons, 
Order  their  douls  aright; 


Till  I  make  plain  the  meaning 

Of  all  my  thousand  years  — 

Till  I  fill  their  hearts  with  knowledge, 

While  I  fill  their  eyes  with  tears. 


PUCK'S  SONG 

See  you  the  ferny  ride  that  steals 
Into  the  oak-woods  far? 
O  that  was  whence  they  hewed  the  keels 
That  rolled  to  Trafalgar. 

And  mark  you  where  the  ivy  clings 
To  Bayham's  mouldering  walls? 
O  there  we  cast  the  stout  railings 
That  stand  around  St.  Paul's. 

See  you  the  dimpled  track  that  runs 
All  hollow  through  the  wheat? 
O  that  was  where  they  hauled  the  guns 
That  smote  King  Philip's  fleet. 

Out  of  the  Weald,  the  secret  Weald, 

Men  sent  in  ancient  years, 

The  horse-shoes  red  at  Flodden  Field, 

The  arrows  at  Poitiers. 

s 


6  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

See  you  our  little  mill  that  clacks, 

So  busy  by  the  brook? 

She  has  ground  her  corn  and  paid  her  tax 

Ever  since  Domesday  Book. 

See  you  our  stilly  woods  of  oak? 
And  the  dread  ditch  beside? 
O  that  was  where  the  Saxons  broke 
On  the  day  that  Harold  died. 

See  you  the  windy  levels  spread 
About  the  gates  of  Rye? 
O  that  was  where  the  Northmen  fled, 
When  Alfred's  ships  came  by. 

See  you  our  pastures  wide  and  lone, 
Where  the  red  oxen  browse? 
O  there  was  a  City  thronged  and  known, 
Ere  London  boasted  a  house. 

And  see  you,  after  rain,  the  trace 
Of  mound  and  ditch  and  wall? 
O  that  was  a  Legion's  camping-place, 
When  Caesar  sailed  from  Gaul. 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

And  see  you  marks  that  show  and  fade, 
Like  shadows  on  the  Downs? 
O  they  are  the  lines  the  Flint  Men  made, 
To  guard  their  wondrous  towns. 

Trackway  and  Camp  and  City  lost, 
Salt  Marsh  where  now  is  corn; 
Old  Wars,  old  Peace,  old  Arts  that  cease, 
And  so  was  England  born! 

She  is  not  any  common  Earth, 
Water  or  wood  or  air, 
But  Merlin's  Isle  of  Gramarye, 
Where  you  and  I  will  fare. 


THE  WAY  THROUGH  THE  WOODS 

They  shut  the  road  through  the  woods 

Seventy  years  ago. 

Weather  and  rain  have  undone  it  again, 

And  now  you  would  never  know 

There  was  once  a  road  through  the  woods 

Before  they  planted  the  trees. 

It  is  underneath  the  coppice  and  heath, 

And  the  thin  anemones. 

Only  the  keeper  sees 

That,  where  the  ring-dove  broods, 

And  the  badgers  roll  at  ease, 

There  was  once  a  road  through  the  woods. 

Yet,  if  you  enter  the  woods 

Of  a  summer  evening  late, 

When  the  night-air  cools  on  the  trout-ringed 

pools 

Where  the  otter  whistles  his  mate 
(They  fear  not  men  in  the  woods, 
Because  they  see  so  few), 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  9 

You  will  hear  the  beat  of  a  horse's  feet, 

And  the  swish  of  a  skirt  in  the  dew, 

Steadily  cantering  through 

The  misty  solitudes, 

As  though  they  perfectly  knew 

The  old  lost  road  through  the  woods     .     .     . 

But  there  is  no  road  through  the  woods. 


A  THREE-PART  SONG 

»' 

I'm  just  in  love  with  all  these  three, 

The  Weald  and  the  Marsh  and  the  Down  coun- 

trie; 

Nor  I  don't  know  which  I  love  the  most, 
The  Weald  or  the  Marsh  or  the  white  chalk 

coast! 

I've  buried  my  heart  in  a  ferny  hill, 
Twix'  a  liddle  low  shaw  an'  a  great  high  gill. 
Oh  hop-bine  yaller  an'  wood -smoke  blue, 
I  reckon  you'll  keep  her  middling  true! 

I've  loosed  my  mind  for  to  out  and  run 
On  a  Marsh  that  was  old  when  Kings  begun. 
Oh  Romney  Level  and  Brenzett  reeds, 
I  reckon  you  know  what  my  mind  needs! 

I've  given  my  soul  to  the  Southdown  grass, 
And  sheep-bells  tinkled  where  you  pass. 
Oh  Firle  an'  Ditchling  an'  sails  at  sea, 

I  reckon  you  keep  my  soul  for  me! 

10 


THE  RUN  OF  THE  DOWNS 

The  Weald  is  good,  the  Downs  are  best  — 

Til  give  you  the  run  of  'em,  East  to  West. 

Beachy  Head  and  Winddoor  Hill, 

They  were  once  and  they  are  still, 

Firle,  Mount  Caburn  and  Mount  Harry 

Go  back  as  far  as  sums  '11  carry. 

Ditchling  Beacon  and  Chanctonbury  Ring, 

They  have  looked  on  many  a  thing, 

And  what  those  two  have  missed  between  'em 

I  reckon  Truleigh  Hill  has  seen  'em. 

Highden,  Bignor  and  Duncton  Down 

Knew  Old  England  before  the  Crown. 

Linch  Down,  Treyford  and  Sunwood 

Knew  Old  England  before  the  Flood. 

And  when  you  end  on  the  Hampshire  side  — 

Butser's  old  as  Time  and  Tide. 

The  Downs  are  sheep,  the  Weald  is  corn, 

You  be  glad  you  are  Sussex  born! 


11 


BROOKLAND  ROAD 

I  was  very  well  pleased  with  what  I  knowed, 
I  reckoned  myself  no  fool  — 
Till  I  met  with  a  maid  on  the  Brookland  Road, 
That  turned  me  back  to  school. 

Low  down  —  low  down! 
Where  the  liddle  green  lanterns  shine  — 
0  maids,  Fve  done  with  9ee  all  but  one, 
And  she  can  never  be  mine! 

'Twas  right  in  the  middest  of  a  hot  June  night, 
With  thunder  duntin'  round, 
And  I  see'd  her  face  by  the  fairy  light 
That  beats  from  off  the  ground. 

She  only  smiled  and  she  never  spoke, 

She  smiled  and  went  away; 

But  when  she'd  gone  my  heart  was  broke 

And  my  wits  was  clean  astray. 

12 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  13 

O,  stop  your  ringing  and  let  me  be  — 
Let  be,  O  Brookland  bells! 
You'll  ring  Old  Goodman*  out  of  the  sea, 
Before  I  wed  one  else! 

Old  Goodman's  Farm  is  rank  sea  sand, 
And  was  this  thousand  year; 
But  it  shall  turn  to  rich  plough  land 
Before  I  change  my  dear. 

O,  Fairfield  Church  is  water-bound 
From  autumn  to  the  spring; 
But  it  shall  turn  to  high  hill  ground 
Before  my  bells  do  ring. 

O,  leave  me  walk  on  the  Brookland  Road, 
In  the  thunder  and  warm  rain  — 
O,  leave  me  look  where  my  love  goed, 
And  p'raps  I'll  see  her  again! 

Low  down  —  low  down! 
Where  the  liddle  green  lanterns  shine  — 
0  maids,  I've  done  with  'ee  all  but  one9 
And  she  can  never  be  mine! 

*Earl  Godwin  of  the  Goodwin  Sands? 


THE  SACK  OF  THE  GODS 

Strangers  drawn  from  the  ends  of  the  earth, 
jewelled  and  plumed  were  we; 

I  was  Lord  of  the  Inca  race,  and  she  was  Queen 
of  the  Sea. 

Under  the  stars  beyond  our  stars  where  the  new- 
forged  meteors  glow, 

Hotly  we  stormed  Valhalla,  a  million  years  ago. 

Ever  'neath  high  Valhalla   Hall  the  well-tuned 

horns  begin 
When  the  swords  are  out  in  the  underworld,  and 

the  weary  Gods  come  in. 
Ever  through  high  Valhalla  Gate  the  Patient  Angel 

goes 
He  opens  the  eyes  that  are  blind  with  hate  —  he 

joins  the  hands  of  foes. 

Dust  of  the  stars  was  under  our  feet,  glitter  of 
stars  above  — 

14 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  15 

Wrecks  of  our  wrath  dropped  reeling  down  as 
we  fought  and  we  spurned  and  we  strove. 

Worlds  upon  worlds  we  tossed  aside,  and  scat- 
tered them  to  and  fro, 

The  night  that  we  stormed  Valhalla,  a  million 
years  ago! 

They  are  forgiven  as  they  forgive  all  those  dark 

wounds  and  deep, 
Their  beds  are  made  on  the  lap  of  Time  and  they 

lie  down  and  sleep. 
They  are  forgiven  as  they  forgive  all  those  old 

wounds  that  bleed, 
They  shut  their    eyes   from    their    worshippers. 

They  sleep  till  the  world  has  need. 

She  with  the  star  I  had  marked  for  my  own  —  I 
with  my  set  desire  — 

Lost  in  the  loom  of  the  Night  of  Nights  — 
lighted  by  worlds  afire  — 

Met  in  a  war  against  the  Gods  where  the  head- 
long meteors  glow, 

Hewing  our  wav  to  Valhalla,  a  million  years 
ago! 


16  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

They  will  come  back  —  come  back  again,  as  long 

as  the  red  Earth  rolls. 
He  never  wasted  a  leaf  or  a  tree.    Do  you  think 

He  would  squander  souls? 


THE  KINGDOM 

Now  we  are  come  to  our  Kingdom, 

And  the  State  is  thus  and  thus; 

Our  legions  wait  at  the  Palace  gate  — 

Little  it  profits  us, 

Now  we  are  come  to  our  Kingdom! 

Now  we  are  come  to  our  Kingdom, 
And  the  Crown  is  ours  to  take  — 
With  a  naked  sword  at  the  Council  board, 
And  under  the  throne  the  snake, 
Now  we  are  come  to  our  Kingdom! 

Now  we  are  come  to  our  Kingdom, 

And  the  Realm  is  ours  by  right, 

With  shame  and  fear  for  our  daily  cheer, 

And  heaviness  at  night, 

Now  we  are  come  to  our  Kingdom! 

Now  we  are  come  to  our  Kingdom, 

But  my  love's  eyelids  fall. 

All  that  I  wrought  for,  all  that  I  fought  for, 

17 


18  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Delight  her  nothing  at  all. 
My  crown  is  of  withered  leaves, 
For  she  sits  in  the  dust  and  grieves, 
Now  we  are  come  to  our  Kingdom! 


TARRANT  MOSS 

I  closed  and  drew  for  my  love's  sake 
That  now  is  false  to  me, 
And  I  slew  the  Reiver  of  Tarrant  Moss 
And  set  Dumeny  free. 

They  have  gone  down,  they  have  gone  down, 
They  are  standing  all  arow  — 
Twenty  knights  in  the  peat-water, 
That  never  struck  a  blow! 

Their  armour  shall  not  dull  nor  rust, 
Their  flesh  shall  not  decay, 
For  Tarrant  Moss  holds  them  in  trust, 
Until  the  Judgment  Day. 

Their  soul  went  from  them  in  their  youth, 
Ah  God,  that  mine  had  gone, 
Whenas  I  leaned  on  my  love's  truth 
And  not  on  my  sword  alone! 

19 


20  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Whenas  I  leaned  on  lad's  belief 

And  not  on  my  naked  blade  — 

And  I  slew  a  thief,  and  an  honest  thief, 

For  the  sake  of  a  worthless  maid. 

They  have  laid  the  Reiver  low  in  his  place, 
They  have  set  me  up  on  high, 
But  the  twenty  knights  in  the  peat-water 
Are  luckier  than  I. 

And  ever  they  give  me  gold  and  praise 
And  ever  I  mourn  my  loss  — 
For  I  struck  the  blow  for  my  false  love's  sake 
And  not  for  the  Men  of  the  Moss! 


SIR  RICHARD'S  SONG 

(A.  D.  1066) 

I  followed  my  Duke  ere  I  was  a  lover, 
To  take  from  England  fief  and  fee; 

But  now  this  game  is  the  other  way  over 
But  now  England  hath  taken  me! 

I  had  my  horse,  my  shield  and  banner, 
And  a  boy's  heart,  so  whole  and  free; 

But  now  I  sing  in  another  manner  — 
But  now  England  hath  taken  me! 

As  for  my  Father  in  his  tower, 
Asking  news  of  my  ship  at  sea; 

He  will  remember  his  own  hour  — 
Tell  him  England  hath  taken  me! 

As  for  my  Mother  in  her  bower, 

That  rules  my  Father  so  cunningly, 
She  will  remember  a  maiden's  power  — 

Tell  her  England  hath  taken  me! 

21 


22  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

As  for  my  Brother  in  Rouen  City, 
A  nimble  and  naughty  page  is  he, 

But  he  will  come  to  suffer  and  pity  — 
Tell  him  England  hath  taken  me! 

As  for  my  little  Sister  waiting 

In  the  pleasant  orchards  of  Normandie, 
Tell  her  youth  is  the  time  for  mating  — 

Tell  her  England  hath  taken  me! 

As  for  my  Comrades  in  camp  and  highway, 
That  lift  their  eyebrows  scornfully, 

Tell  them  their  way  is  not  my  way  — 
Tell  them  England  hath  taken  me! 

Kings  and  Princes  and  Barons  famed, 
Knights  and  Captains  in  your  degree; 

Hear  me  a  little  before  I  am  blamed  — 
Seeing  England  hath  taken  me! 

ri» 

Howso  great  man's  strength  be  reckoned, 
There  are  two  things  he  cannot  flee; 

Love  is  the  first,  and  Death  is  the  second  — 
And  Love  in  England  hath  taken  me! 


A  TREE  SONG 

(A.  D.  1200) 

Of  all  the  trees  that  grow  so  fair, 

Old  England  to  adorn, 
Greater  are  none  beneath  the  Sun, 

Than  Oak,  and  Ash,  and  Thorn. 
Sing  Oak,  and  Ash,  and  Thorn,  good  sirs 

(All  of  a  Midsummer  morn!) 
Surely  we  sing  no  little  thing, 

In  Oak,  and  Ash,  and  Thorn  i 

Oak  of  the  Clay  lived  many  a  day, 

Or  ever  ^Eneas  began; 
Ash  of  the  Loam  was  a  lady  at  home, 

When  Brut  was  an  outlaw  man. 
Thorn  of  the  Down  saw  New  Troy  Town 

(From  which  was  London  born); 
Witness  hereby  the  ancientry 

Of  Oak,  and  Ash,  and  Thorn! 

Yew  that  is  old  in  churchyard  mould, 
He  breedeth  a  mighty  bow. 

23 


24  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Alder  for  shoes  do  wise  men  choose, 

And  beech  for  cups  also. 
But  when  ye  have  killed,  and  your  bowl  is 
spilled, 

And  your  shoes  are  clean  outworn, 
Back  ye  must  speed  for  all  that  ye  need, 

To  Oak,  and  Ash,  and  Thorn! 

Ellum  she  hateth  mankind,  and  waiteth 

Till  every  gust  be  laid, 
To  drop  a  limb  on  the  head  of  him 

That  anyway  trusts  her  shade: 
But  whether  a  lad  be  sober  or  sad, 

Or  mellow  with  ale  from  the  horn, 
He  will  take  no  wrong  when  he  lieth  along 

'Neath  Oak,  and  Ash,  and  Thorn! 

Oh,  do  not  tell  the  Priest  our  plight, 

Or  he  would  call  it  a  sin; 
But  —  we   have   been   out   in   the   woods   all 
night, 

A-conjuring  Summer  in! 
And  we  bring  you  news  by  word  of  mouth  — 

Good  news  for  cattle  and  corn  — 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  25 

Now  is  the  Sun  come  up  from  the  South, 
With  Oak,  and  Ash,  and  Thorn! 

Sing  Oak,  and  Ash,  and  Thorn,  good  sirs 

(All  of  a  Midsummer  morn!) 
England  shall  bide  till  Judgment  Tide, 

By  Oak,  and  Ash,  and  Thorn! 


CUCKOO  SONG 

(Spring  begins  in  Southern  England  on  the  14th  April,  on  which 
date  the  Old  Woman  lets  the  Cuckoo  out  of  her  basket  at  Heathfield 
Fair  —  locally  known  as  Heffle  Cuckoo  Fair) 

Tell  it  to  the  locked-up  trees, 
Cuckoo,  bring  your   song  here! 
Warrant,  Act  and  Summons,  please, 
For  Spring  to  pass  along  here! 
Tell  old  Winter,  if  he  doubt, 
Tell  him  squat  and  square  —  a! 
Old  Woman! 
Old  Woman! 

Old  Woman's  let  the  Cuckoo  out 
At  Heffle  Cuckoo  Fair  — a! 

March  has  searched  and  April  tried  — 

'Tisn't  long  to  May  now. 

Not  so  far  to  Whitsuntide 

And  Cuckoo's  come  to  stay  now! 

Hear  the  valiant  fellow  shout 

Down  the  orchard  bare  —  a ! 

Old  Woman! 

Old  Woman! 

Old  Woman's  let  the  Cuckoo  out 

At  Heffle  Cuckoo  Fair  — a! 

26 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  27 

When  your  heart  is  young  and  gay 

And  the  season  rules  it  — 

Work  your  works  and  play  your  play 

Tore  the  Autumn  cools  it! 

Kiss  you  turn  and  turn  about, 

But  my  lad,  beware  —  a ! 

Old  Woman! 

Old  Woman! 

Old  Woman's  let  the  Cuckoo  out 

At  Heffle  Cuckoo  Fair  — a! 


A  CHARM 

Take  of  English  earth  as  much 
As  either  hand  may  rightly  clutch. 
In  the  taking  of  it  breathe 
Prayer  for  all  who  lie  beneath. 
Not  the  great  nor  well-bespoke, 
But  the  mere  uncounted  folk 
Of  whose  life  and  death  is  none 
Report  or  lamentation. 

Lay  that  earth  upon  thy  heart, 
And  thy  sickness  shall  depart! 

It  shall  sweeten  and  make  whole 
Fevered  breath  and  festered  soul; 
It  shall  mightily  restrain 
Over-busy  hand  and  brain; 
It  shall  ease  thy  mortal  strife 
'Gainst  the  immortal  woe  of  life, 
Till  thyself  restored  shall  prove 
By  what  grace  the  Heavens  do  move, 

28 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  29 

Take  of  English  flowers  these  — 
Spring's  full-faced  primroses, 
Summer's  wild  wide-hearted  rose, 
Autumn's  wall-flower  of  the  close, 
And,  thy  darkness  to  illume, 
Winter's  bee-thronged  ivy -bloom. 
Seek  and  serve  them  where  they  bide 
From  Candlemas  to  Christmas-tide, 

For  these  simples,  used  aright, 

Can  restore  a  failing  sight. 

These  shall  cleanse  and  purify 
Webbed  and  inward-turning  eye; 
These  shall  show  thee  treasure  hid, 
Thy  familiar  fields  amid; 
And  reveal  (which  is  thy  need) 
Every  man  a  King  indeed! 


THE  PRAIRIE 

"I  see  the  grass  shake  in  the  sun  for  leagues  on 

either  hand, 

I  see  a  river  loop  and  run  about  a  treeless  land  — 
An   empty   plain,    a    steely   pond,    a    distance 

diamond-clear, 
And  low  blue  naked  hills  beyond.     And  what  is 

that  to  fear?" 

"Go  softly  by  that  river-side  or,  when    you 

would  depart, 
You'll  find  its  every  winding  tied  and  knotted 

round  your  heart. 
Be  wary  as  the  seasons  pass,  or  you  may  ne'er 

outrun 
The  wind  that  sets  that  yellowed  grass  a-shiver 

'neath  the  Sun." 

"I    hear  the   summer    storm    outblown  —  the 

drip  of  the  grateful  wheat. 
I  hear  the  hard  trail  telephone  a  far-off  horse's 

feet. 

80 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  31 

I  hear  the  horns  of  Autumn  blow  to  the  wild- 
fowl overhead; 

And  I  hear  the  hush  before  the  snow.  And 
what  is  that  to  dread?" 

"Take  heed  what  spell  the  lightning  weaves  — 
what  charm  the  echoes  shape  — 

Or,  bound  among  a  million  sheaves,  your  soul 
may  not  escape. 

Bar  home  the  door  of  summer  nights  lest  those 
high  planets  drown 

The  memory  of  near  delights  in  all  the  longed- 
for  town." 

"What  need  have  I  to  long  or  fear?     Now, 

friendly,  I  behold 
My  faithful  seasons  robe  the  year  in  silver  and 

in  gold. 
Now  I  possess  and  am  possessed  of  the  land 

where  I  would  be, 
And  the  curve  of  half  Earth's  generous  breast 

shall  soothe  and  ravish  me!" 


COLD  IRON 

"Gold  is  for  the  mistress  —  silver  for  the  maid  — 
Copper  for  the  craftsman  cunning  at  his  trade. " 
"Good!"  said  the  Baron,  sitting  in  his  hall, 
"But  Iron  —  Cold  Iron  —  is  master  of  them 
all." 

So  he  made  rebellion  'gainst  the  King  his  liege, 
Camped  before  his  citadel  and  summoned  it  to 

siege. 

"Nay!"  said  the  cannoneer  on  the  castle  wall, 
"But  Iron  —  Cold  Iron  —  shall  be  master  of 

you  all!" 

Woe  for  the  Baron  and  his  knights  so  strong, 
When  the  cruel  cannon-balls  laid  'em  all  along! 
He  was  taken  prisoner,  he  was  cast  in  thrall, 
And  Iron  —  Cold  Iron  —  was  master  of  it  all. 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  S3 

Yet  his  King  spake  kindly  (ah,  how  kind   a 

Lord!) 
"What  if  I  release  thee  now  and  give  thee  back 

thy  sword?" 

"Nay!"  said  the  Baron,  "mock  not  at  my  fall, 
For  Iron  —  Cold  Iron  —  is  master  of  men  all. " 


"Tears  are  for  the  craven,  prayers  are  for  the 

clown  — 

Halters  for  the  silly  neck  that  cannot  keep  a  crown. " 
"As  my  loss  is  grievous,  so  my  hope  is  small, 
For  Iron  —  Cold  Iron  —  must  be  master  of 

men  all!" 


Yet  his  King  made  answer  (few  such  Kings 

there  be!) 
"Here   is   Bread  and  here  is  Wine  —  sit  and 

sup  with  me. 
Eat  and  drink  in  Mary's  Name,  the  whiles  I 

do  recall 
How   Iron  —  Cold   Iron  —  can   be   master   of 

men  all!" 


34  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

He  took  the  Wine  and  blessed  It.     He  blessed 

and  brake  the  Bread. 
With  His  own  Hands  He  served  Them,   and 

presently  He  said: 
"See!    These  Hands  they  pierced   with   nails 

outside  My  city  wall 
Show  Iron  —  Cold  Iron  • —  to  be  master  of  men 

all! 

"Wounds  are  for  the  desperate,  blows  are  for 

the  strong, 
Balm  and  oil  for  weary  hearts  all  cut  and  bruised 

with  wrong. 

I  forgive  thy  treason  —  I  redeem  thy  fall  — 
For   Iron  —  Cold   Iron  —  must   be   master   of 

men  all!" 

"  Crowns  are  for  the  valiant  —  sceptres  for  the 

bold! 
Thrones  and  powers  for  mighty  men  who  dare 

to  take  and  hold." 

"Nay!"  said  the  Baron,  kneeling  in  his  hall, 
"But  Iron  —  Cold  Iron —  is  master  of  man  all! 
Iron  out  of  Calvary  is  master  of  men  all!" 


A  CAROL 

Our  Lord  Who  did  the  Ox  command 

To  kneel  to  Judah's  King, 
He  binds  His  frost  upon  the  land 

To  ripen  it  for  Spring  — 
To  ripen  it  for  Spring,  good  sirs, 

According  to  His  Word. 
Which  well  must  be  as  ye  can  see  — 

And  who  shall  judge  the  Lord? 

* 

When  we  poor  fenmen  skate  the  ice 

Or  shiver  on  the  wold, 
We  hear  the  cry  of  a  single  tree 

That  breaks  her  heart  in  the  cold  — 
That  breaks  her  heart  in  the  cold,  good  sirs, 

And  rendeth  by  the  board. 
Which  well  must  be  as  ye  can  see  — 

And  who  shall  judge  the  Lord? 

Her  wood  is  crazed  and  little  worth 
Excepting  as  to  burn, 

35 


36  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

That  we  may  warm  and  make  our  mirth 

Until  the  Spring  return  — 
Until  the  Spring  return,  good  sirs, 

When  people  walk  abroad. 
Which  well  must  be  as  ye  can  see  — 

And  who  shall  judge  the  Lord? 

God  bless  the  master  of  this  house, 

And  all  that  sleep  therein! 
And  guard  the  fens  from  pirate  folk, 

And  keep  us  all  from  sin, 
To  walk  in  honesty,  good  sirs, 

Of  thought  and  deed  and  word! 
Which  shall  befriend  our  latter  end  — 

And  who  shall  judge  the  Lord? 


"MY  NEW  CUT  ASHLAR' 

My  new  cut  ashlar  takes  the  light 
Where  crimson-blank  the  windows  flare. 
By  my  own  work  before  the  night, 
Great  Overseer,  I  make  my  prayer. 

If  there  be  good  in  that  I  wrought 
Thy  Hand  compelled  it,  Master,  Thine  — 
Where  I  have  failed  to  meet  Thy  Thought 
I  know,  through  Thee,  the  blame  was  mine. 

The  depth  and  dream  of  my  desire, 
The  bitter  paths  wherein  I  stray  — 
Thou  knowest  WTho  hast   made  the  Fire, 
Thou  knowest  Who  hast  made  the  Clay. 

Who,  lest  all  thought  of  Eden  fade, 
Bring'st  Eden  to  the  craftsman's  brain  — 
Godlike  to  muse  o'er  his  own  Trade 
And  manlike  stand  with  God  again! 

37 


38  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

One  stone  the  more  swings  into  place 
In  that  dread  Temple  of  Thy  worth. 
It  is  enough  that  through  Thy  Grace 
I  saw  nought  common  in  Thy  Earth. 

Take  not  that  vision  from  my  ken  — 
Oh  whatsoe'er  may  spoil  or  speed. 
Help  me  to  need  no  aid  from  men 
That  I  may  help  such  men  as  need! 


EDDI'S  SERVICE 

(A.  D.  687) 

Eddi,  priest  of  St.  Wilfrid 

In  the  chapel  at  Manhood  End, 

Ordered  a  midnight  service 
For  such  as  cared  to  attend. 

But  the  Saxons  were  keeping  Christmas, 
And  the  night  was  stormy  as  well. 

Nobody  came  to  service 
Though  Eddi  rang  the  bell. 

"Wicked  weather  for  walking," 
Said  Eddi  of  Manhood  End. 

"But  I  must  go  on  with  the  service 
For  such  as  care  to  attend." 

The  altar-candles  were  lighted,  — 
An  old  marsh  donkey  came, 

Bold  as  a  guest  invited, 

And  stared  at  the  guttering  flame. 


40  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

The  storm  beat  on  at  the  windows, 
The  water  splashed  on  the  floor, 

And  a  wet  yoke-weary  bullock 
Pushed  in  through  the  open  door. 

"How  do  I  know  what  is  greatest, 
How  do  I  know  what  is  least? 

That  is  My  Father's  business," 
Said  Eddi,  Wilfrid's  priest. 

"But  —  three  are  gathered  together  — 

Listen  to  me  and  attend. 
I  bring  good  news,  my  brethren!" 

Said  Eddi  of  Manhood  End. 

And  he  told  the  Ox  of  a  Manger 

And  a  Stall  in  Bethlehem, 
And  he  spoke  to  the  Ass  of  a  Rider, 

That  rode  to  Jerusalem. 

They  steamed  and  dripped  in  the  chancel, 
They  listened  and  never  stirred, 

While,  just  as  though  they  were  Bishops, 
Eddi  preached  them  The  Word. 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  41 

Till  the  gale  blew  off  on  the  marshes 
And  the  windows  showed  the  day, 

And  the  Ox  and  the  Ass  together 
Wheeled  and  clattered  away. 

And  when  the  Saxons  mocked  him, 

Said  Eddi  of  Manhood  End, 
"I  dare  not  shut  His  chapel 

On  such  as  care  to  attend." 


THE  FAIRIES'  SIEGE 

I  have  been  given  my  charge  to  keep  -— 

Well  have  I  kept  the  same! 

Playing  with  strife  for  the  most  of  my  life, 

But  this  is  a  different  game. 

I'll  not  fight  against  swords  unseen, 

Or  spears  that  I  cannot  view  — 

Hand  him  the  keys  of  the  place  on  your  knees 

'Tis  the  Dreamer  whose  dreams  come  true! 

Ask  for  his  terms  and  accept  them  at  once 

Quick,  ere  we  anger  him,  go! 

Never  before  have  I  flinched  from  the  guns, 

But  this  is  a  different  show. 

I'll  not  fight  with  the  Herald  of  God 

(I  know  what  his  Master  can  do!) 

Open  the  gate,  he  must  enter  in  state, 

"Tis  the  Dreamer  whose  dreams  come  true! 

I'd  not  give  way  for  an  Emperor, 
I'd  hold  my  road  for  a  King  — 

42 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  43 

To  the  Triple  Crown  I  would  not  bow  down  — 

But  this  is  a  different  thing. 

I'll  not  fight  with  the  Powers  of  Air, 

Sentry,  pass  him  through! 

Drawbridge  let  fall,  it's  the  Lord    of  us    all, 

The  Dreamer  whose  dreams  come  true! 


A  SONG  TO  MITHRAS 

(Hymn  of  the  30th  Legion:  circa  350  A.  D.) 

Mithras,  God  of  the  Morning,  our  trumpets 

waken  the  Wall! 
"Rome  is  above  the  Nations,  but  Thou  art  over 

all!" 
Now  as  the  names  are  answered,  and  the  guards 

are  marched  away, 
Mithras,  also  a  soldier,  give  us  strength  for  the 

day! 

Mithras,    God   of   the   Noontide,   the   heather 

swims  in  the  heat. 
Our  helmets  scorch  our  foreheads,  our  sandals 

burn  our  feet. 
Now  in  the  ungirt  hour  —  now   ere   we   blink 

and  drowse, 
Mithras,  also  a  soldier,  keep  us  true  to  our  vows! 

Mithras,  God  of  the  Sunset,  low  on  the  Western 

main  — 
Thou  descending  immortal,  immortal  to  rise 

again! 

44 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  45 

Now  when  the  watch  is  ended,  now  when  the 

wine  is  drawn, 
Mithras,  also  a  soldier,  keep  us  pure  till  the 

dawn! 

Mithras,  God  of  the  Midnight,  here  where  the 

great  bull  dies, 
Look  on  thy  children  in  darkness.     Oh  take  our 

sacrifice ! 
Many  roads  thou  hast  fashioned  —  all  of  them 

lead  to  the  Light, 
Mithras,  also  a  soldier,  teach  us  to  die  aright! 


THE  NEW  KNIGHTHOOD 

Who  gives  him  the  Bath? 
"I,"  said  the  wet, 
Rank  Jungle-sweat, 
"I'll  give  him  the  Bath!" 

Who'll  sing  the  psalms? 
"WTe,"  said  the  Palms. 
"Ere  the  hot  wind  becalms, 
We'll  sing  the  psalms." 

Who  lays  on  the  sword? 
"I,"  said  the  Sun, 
"Before  he  has  done, 
I'll  lay  on  the  sword." 

Who  fastens  his  belt? 
"I,"  said  Short-Rations, 
"I  know  all  the  fashions 
Of  tightening  a  belt!" 

Who  gives  him  his  spur? 
"I,"  said  his  Chief, 

46 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  47 

Exacting  and  brief, 

"I'll  give  him  the  spur." 

Who'll  shake  his  hand? 
"I,"  said  the  Fever, 
"And  I'm  no  deceiver, 
I'll  shake  his  hand." 

Who  brings  him  the  wine? 
"I,"  said  Quinine, 
"It's  a  habit  of  mine. 
I'll  come  with  the  wine." 

Who'll  put  him  to  proof? 
"I,"  said  All  Earth, 
"Whatever  he's  worth, 
I'll  put  to  the  proof." 

Who'll  choose  him  for  Knight? 
"I,"  said  his  Mother, 
"Before  any  other, 
My  very  own  Knight." 

And  after  this  fashion,  adventure  to  seek, 
Was  Sir  Galahad  made  —  as  it  might  be  last 
week! 


HARP  SONG  OF  THE  DANE  WOMEN 

What  is  a  woman  that  you  forsake  her, 
And  the  hearth-fire  and  the  home-acre, 
To  go  with  the  old  grey  Widow-maker? 

She  has  no  house  to  lay  a  guest  in  — 

But  one  chill  bed  for  all  to  rest  in, 

That  the  pale  suns  and  the  stray  bergs  nest  in. 

She  has  no  strong  white  arms  to  fold  you, 
But  the  ten-times-fingering  weed  to  hold  you  — 
Out  on  the  rocks  where  the  tide  has  rolled  you. 

Yet,  when  the  signs  of  summer  thicken, 

And  the  ice  breaks,  and  the  birch-buds  quicken, 

Yearly  you  turn  from  our  side,  and  sicken  — 

Sicken  again  for  the  shouts  and  the  slaughters. 
You  steal  away  to  the  lapping  waters, 
And  look  at  your  ship  in  her  winter  quarters 

48 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  49 

You  forget  our  mirth,  and  talk  at  the  tables, 
The  kine   in  the  shed  and  the  horse   in   the 

stables  — 
To  pitch  her  sides  and  go  over  her  cables. 

Then  you  drive  out  where  the  storm-clouds 

swallow, 

And  the  sound  of  your  oar-blades,  falling  hollow, 
Is  all  we  have  left  through  the  months  to  follow. 

Ah,  what  is  Woman  that  you  forsake  her, 
And  the  hearth-fire  and  the  home-acre, 
To  go  with  the  old  gray  Widow-maker? 


CHAPTER  HEADINGS 

Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills 

Look,  you  have  cast  out  Love!     What  Gods  are 

these 

You  bid  me  please? 

The  Three  in  One,  the  One  in  Three?     Not  so! 
To  my  own  Gods  I  go. 
It  may  be  they  shall  give  me  greater  ease 
Than  your  cold  Christ  and  tangled  Trinities. 

Lispeth. 

When  the  Earth  was  sick  and  the  Skies  were  grey, 
And  the  woods  were  rotted  with  rain, 
The  Dead  Man  rode  through  the  autumn  day 
To  visit  his  love  again. 

His  love  she  neither  saw  nor  heard, 
So  heavy  was  her  shame; 
And  tho'  the  babe  within  her  stirred 
She  knew  not  that  he  came. 

The  Other  Man. 

50 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  51 

Cry  "Murder"  in  the  market-place  and  each 

Will  turn  upon  his  neighbour  anxious  eyes 

Asking ;  — ' '  Art  thou  the  man  ? ' '  We  hunted  Cain 

Some  centuries  ago  across  the  world. 

This  bred  the  fear  our  own  misdeeds  maintain 

To-day. 

His  Wedded  Wife. 

Go,  stalk  the  red  deer  o'er  the  heather 

Ride,  follow  the  fox  if  you  can! 

But,  for  pleasure  and  profit  together, 

Allow  me  the  hunting  of  Man  — 

The  chase  of  the  Human,  the  search  for  the  Soul 

To  its  ruin  —  the  hunting  of  Man. 

Pig. 

"Stopped  in  the  straight  when  the  race  was  his 

own! 

Look  at  him  cutting  it  —  cur  to  the  bone!" 
Ask  ere  the  youngster  be  rated  and  chidden 
What  did  he  carry  and  how  was  he  ridden? 
May  be  they  used  him  too  much  at  the  start; 
Maybe   Fate's  weight-cloths   are  breaking  his 

heart." 

In  the  Pride  of  his  Youth. 


52  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

"And  some  are  sulky,  while  some  will  plunge. 
(So  ho!    Steady!    Stand  still,  you! ) 
Some  you  must  gentle,  and  some  you  must  lunge. 
(There!     There!    Who  wants  to  kill  you?) 
Some  —  there  are  losses  in  every  trade  — 
Will  break  their  hearts  ere  bitted  and  made, 
Will  fight  like  fiends  as  the  rope  cuts  hard, 
And  die  dumb-mad  in  the  breaking-yard." 

Thrown  Away. 

The  World  hath  set  its  heavy  yoke 
Upon  the  old  white-bearded  folk 
Who  strive  to  please  the  King. 
God's  mercy  is  upon  the  young, 
God's  wisdom  in  the  baby  tongue 
That  fears  not  anything. 

Tod's  Amendment. 

Not  though  you  die  to-night,  O  Sweet,  and  wail, 

A  spectre  at  my  door, 

Shall  mortal  Fear  make  Love  immortal  fail  — 

I  shall  but  love  you  more, 

Who,  from  Death's  house  returning,  give  me  still 

One  moment's  comfort  in  my  matchless  ill. 

By  Word  of  Mouth. 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  53 

They  burnt  a  corpse  upon  the  sand  — 
The  light  shone  out  afar; 
It  guided  home  the  plunging  boats 
That  beat  from  Zanzibar, 
Spirit  of  Fire,  where  e'er  Thy  altars  rise, 
Thou  art  the  Light  of  Guidance  to  our  eyes! 

In  Error. 


Ride  with  an  idle  whip,  ride  with  an  unused  heel, 
But,  once  in  a  way,  there  will  come  a  day 
When  the  colt  must  be  taught  to  feel 
The  lash  that  falls,  and  the  curb  that  galls,  and 
the  sting  of  the  rowelled  steel. 
The  Conversion  of  Aurelian  McGoggin. 

It  was  not  in  the  open  fight 

We  threw  away  the  sword, 

But  in  the  lonely  watching 

In  the  darkness  by  the  ford, 

The  waters  lapped,  the  night- wind  blew, 

Full-armed  the  Fear  was  born  and  grew, 

From  panic  in  the  night. 

The  Rout  of  the  White  Hussars. 


54  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

In  the  daytime,  when  she  moved  about  me, 
In  the  night,  when  she  was  sleeping  at  my  side, — 
I  was  wearied,  I  was  wearied  of  her  presence, 
Day  by  day  and  night  by  night  I  grew  to  hate 

her  — 
Would  God  that  she  or  I  had  died! 

The  Bronckhorst  Divorce  Case. 


A  stone's  throw  out  on  either  hand 
From  that  well-ordered  road  we  tread, 
And  all  the  world  is  wild  and  strange; 
Churel  and  ghoul  and  Djinn  and  sprite 
Shall  bear  us  company  to-night, 
For  we  have  reached  the  Oldest  Land 
Wherein  the  powers  of  Darkness  range. 

In  the  House  of  Suddhoo. 

To-night,  God  knows  what  thing  shall  tide, 
The  Earth  is  racked  and  faint  — 
Expectant,  sleepless,  open-eyed; 
And  we,  who  from  the  Earth  were  made, 
Thrill  with  our  Mother's  pain. 

False  Dawn. 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  55 

Pit  where  the  buffalo  cooled  his  hide, 

By  the  hot  sun  emptied,  and  blistered  and  dried; 

Log  in  the  reh-grass,  hidden  and  lone; 

Bund  where  the  earth-rat's  mounds  are  strown ; 

Cave  in  the  bank  where  the  sly  stream  steals; 

Aloe  that  stabs  at  the  belly  and  heels, 

Jump  if  you  dare  on  a  steed  untried  - 

Safer  it  is  to  go  wide  —  go  wide ! 

Hark,  from  in  front  where  the  best  men  ride;  — 

" Pull  to  the  off,  boys!     Wide!     Go  wide!" 

Cupid's  Arrows. 

He  drank  strong  waters   and  his   speech  was 

coarse 

He  purchased  raiment  and  forebore  to  pay, 
He  stuck  a  trusting  junior  with  a  horse 
And  won  gymkhanas  in  a  doubtful  way. 
Then,  'twixt  a  vice  and  folly,  turned  aside 
To  do  good  deeds  and  straight  to  cloak  them, 

lied. 

A  Bank  Fraud. 


THE  THOUSANDTH  MAN 

One  man  in  a  thousand,  Solomon  says, 

Will  stick  more  close  than  a  brother. 

And  it's  worth  while  seeking  him  half  your  days 

If  you  find  him  before  the  other. 

Nine  hundred  and  ninety -nine  depend 

On  what  the  world  sees  in  you, 

But  the  Thousandth  Man  will  stand  your  friend 

With  the  whole  round  world  agin  you. 

'Tis  neither  promise  nor  prayer  nor  show 

Will  settle  the  finding  for  'ee. 

Nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  of  'em  go 

By  your  looks  or  your  acts  or  your  glory. 

But  if  he  finds  you  and  you  find  him, 

The  rest  of  the  world  don't  matter; 

For  the  Thousandth  Man  will  sink  or  swim 

With  you  in  any  water. 

You  can  use  his  purse  with  no  more  talk 
Than  he  uses  yours  for  his  spendings, 

56 

i 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  57 

And  laugh  and  meet  in  your  daily  walk 
As  though  there  had  been  no  lendings. 
Nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  of  'em  call 
For  silver  and  gold  in  their  dealings; 
But  the  Thousandth  Man  he's  worth  'em  all, 
Because  you  can  show  him  your  feelings. 

His  wrong's  your  wrong,  and  his  right's  your 

right, 

In  season  or  out  of  season. 
Stand  up  and  back  it  in  all  men's  sight  — 
With  that  for  your  only  reason! 
Nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  can't  bide 
The  shame  or  mocking  or  laughter, 
But  the  Thousandth  Man  will  stand  by  your  side 
To  the  gallows-foot  —  and  after ! 


THE  WINNERS 

What  is  the  moral?     Who  rides  may  read. 
When  the  night  is  thick  and  the  tracks  are  blind 
A  friend  at  a  pinch  is  a  friend  indeed, 
But  a  fool  to  wait  for  the  laggard  behind. 
Down  to  Gehenna  or  up  to  the  Throne, 
He  travels  the  fastest  who  travels  alone. 

White  hands  cling  to  the  tightened  rein, 
Slipping  the  spur  from  the  booted  heel, 
Tenderest  voices  cry  "Turn  again," 
Red  lips  tarnish  the  scabbarded  steel, 
High  hopes  faint  on  a  warm  hearth  stone  — 
He  travels  the  fastest  who  travels  alone. 

One  may  fall  but  he  falls  by  himself  — 
Falls  by  himself  with  himself  to  blame, 
One  may  attain  and  to  him  is  pelf, 
Loot  of  the  city  in  Gold  or  Fame. 
Plunder  of  earth  shall  be  all  his  own 
Who  travels  the  fastest  and  travels  alone. 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  59 

Wherefore  the  more  ye  be  holpen  and  stayed 
Stayed  by  a  friend  in  the  hour  of  toil, 
Sing  the  heretical  song  I  have  made  — 
His  be  the  labour  and  yours  be  the  spoil 
Win  by  his  aid  and  the  aid  disown  — 
He  travels  the  fastest  who  travels  alone! 


A  ST.  HELENA  LULLABY 

"How  far  is  St.  Helena  from  a  little  child  at 

play?" 
What  makes  you  want  to  wander  there  with  all 

the  world  between? 
Oh,  Mother,  call  your  son  again  or  else  he'll 

run  away. 
(No  one  thinks  of  winter  when  the  grass  is  green! 

(f  How  far  is  St.  Helena  from  a  fight  in  Paris 

street?" 
I  haven't  time  to  answer  now  —  the  men  are 

falling  fast. 
The  guns  begin  to  thunder,  and  the  drums  begin 

to  beat. 
(//  you  take  the  first  step  you  will  take  the  last!) 

"  How  far  is  St.  Helena  from  the  field  of  Auster- 

litz?" 
You  couldn't  hear  me  if  I  told  —  so  loud  the 

cannons  roar. 

60 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  61 

But  not  so  far  for  people  who  are  living  by  their 

wits. 

("Gay  go  up"  means  "Gay  go  down"  the  wide 
world  o'er!) 

"  How  far  is  St.  Helena  from  an  Emperor  of 

France?  " 
I  cannot  see  —  I  cannot  tell  —  the  crowns  they 

dazzle  so. 
The  Kings  sit  down  to  dinner,  and  the  Queens 

stand  up  to  dance. 
(After  open  weather  you  may  look  for  snow!) 

66  How  far  is  St.  Helena  from  the  Capes  of  Trafal- 
gar?" 

A  longish  way  —  a  longish  way  —  with  ten  year 
more  to  run. 

It's  South  across  the  water  underneath  a  setting 
star. 

(What  you  cannot  finish  you  must  leave  undone!) 

"  How  far  is  St.  Helena  from  the  Beresina  ice?" 
An  ill  way  —  a  chill  way  —  the  ice  begins  to 
crack. 


62  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

But  not  so  far  for  gentlemen  who  never  took 

advice. 
(When  you  can't  go  forward  you  must  e'en  come 

back!} 

"How    far    is    St.    Helena    from    the  field  of 

Waterloo?  " 
A  near  way  —  a  clear  way  —  the  ship  will  take 

you  soon. 
A  pleasant  place  for  gentlemen  with  little  left  to 

do. 
(Morning  never  tries  you  till  the  afternoon!) 

"How  far  from  St.  Helena   to    the    Gate   of 

Heaven's  Grace?" 
That  no  one  knows  —  that  no  one  knows  —  and 

no  one  ever  will. 
But  fold  your  hands  across  your  heart  and  cover 

up  your  face, 
And  after  all  your  trapesings,  child,  lie  still 


THE  CAPTIVE 

Not  with  an  outcry  to  Allah  nor  any  com- 
plaining 

He  answered  his  name  at  the  muster  and  stood 
to  the  chaining. 

When  the  twin  anklets  were  nipped  on  the  leg- 
bars  that  held  them, 

He  brotherly  greeted  the  armourers  stooping  to 
weld  them. 

Ere  the  sad  dust  of  the  marshalled  feet  of  the 
chain-gang  swallowed  him 

Observing  him  nobly  at  ease,  I  alighted  and 
followed  him. 

Thus  we  had  speech  by  the  way,  but  not  touch- 
ing his  sorrow  — 

Rather  his  red  Yesterday  and  his  regal  To- 
morrow, 

Wherein  he  statelily  moved  to  the  ell  k  of  his 
chains  unregarded, 

Nowise  abashed  but  contented  to  drink  of  the 
potion  awarded. 

63 


64  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Saluting  aloofly  bis  Fate,  he  made  swift  with  his 

story, 
And  the  words   of  his   mouth  were  as  slaves 

spreading  carpets  of  glory 
Embroidered   with   names   of   the   Djinns  —  a 

miraculous  weaving  — 

But  the  cool  and  perspicuous  eye  overbore  un- 
believing. 

So  I  submitted  myself  to  the  limits  of  rapture  - 
Bound  by  this  man  we  had  bound,  amid  captives 

his  capture  — 
Till  he  returned  me  to  earth  and  the  visions 

departed. 
But  on  him  be  the  Peace  and  the  Blessing;  for 

he  was  great-hearted' 


THE  PUZZLER 

The  Celt  in  all  his  variants  from  Builth  to  Bally- 
hoo, 

His  mental  processes  are  plain  —  one  knows 
what  he  will  do. 

And  can  logically  predicate  his  finish  by  his 
start; 

But  the  English  —  ah,  the  English  —  they  are 
quite  a  race  apart. 

Their  psychology  is  bovine,  their  outlook  crude 

and  raw. 
They  abandon  vital  matters  to  be  tickled  with 

a  straw, 
But  the  straw  that  they  were  tickled  with  —  the 

chaff  that  they  were  fed  with  — 
They  convert  into  a  weaver's  beam  to  break 

their  foeman's  head  with. 

For  undemocratic  reasons  and  for  motives  not 
of  State, 

They  arrive  at  their  conclusions  —  largely  in- 
articulate. 

65 


66  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Being  void  of  self-expression  they  confide  their 

views  to  none; 
But  sometimes  in  a  smoking-room,  one  learns 

why  things  were  done. 

Yes,  sometimes   in   a    smoking-room,  through 

clouds  of  "Ers"  and  "Urns" 
Obliquely  and  by  inference  illumination  comes, 
On  some  step  that  they  have  taken,  or  some 

action  they  approve  —  . 
Embellished  with  the  argot  of  the  Upper  Fourth 

Remove. 

In  telegraphic  sentences,  half  nodded  to  their 

friends, 
They  hint  a  matter's  inwardness  —  and  there 

the  matter  ends. 
And  while  the  Celt  is  talking  from  Valencia  to 

Kirkwall, 
The   English  —  ah,    the   English!  —  don't   say 

anything  at  all! 


HADRAMAUTI 

Who  knows  the  heart  of  the  Christian?     How 

does  he  reason? 
What  are  his  measures  and  balances?     Which 

is  his  season 
For   laughter,   forbearance   or   bloodshed,    and 

what  devils  move  him 
When  he  arises  to  smite  us?     7  do  not  love  him. 

He  invites  the  derision  of  strangers  —  he  enters 

all  places. 
Booted,  bareheaded  he  enters.     With  shouts  and 

embraces 
He  asks  of  us  news  of  the  household  whom  we 

reckon  nameless. 
Certainly  Allah  created  him  forty -fold  shameless. 

So  it  is  not  in  the  Desert.     One  came  to  me 

weeping  — 
The  Avenger  of  Blood  on  his  track  —  I  took  him 

in  keeping, 

67 


68  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Demanding  not  whom  he  had  slain,  I  refreshed 

him,  I  fed  him 
As  he  were  even  a  brother.     But  Eblis  had  bred 

him. 

He  was  the  son  of  an  ape,  ill  at  ease  in  his  cloth- 
ing, 

He  talked  with  his  head,  hands  and  feet.  I 
endured  him  with  loathing 

Whatever  Ms  spirit  conceived  his  countenance 
showed  it 

As  a  frog  shows  in  a  mud-puddle.  Yet  I  abode  it ! 

I  fingered  my  beard  and  was  dumb,  in  silence 

confronting  him. 
His  soul  was  too  shallow  for  silence,  e'en  with 

Death  hunting  him. 
I  said:   "Tis  his  weariness  speaks"  but,  when  he 

had  rested, 
He  chirped  in  my  face  like  some  sparrow,  and, 

presently,  jested! 

Wherefore  slew  I  that  stranger?     He  brought  me 

dishonour. 
I  saddled  my  mare,  Bijli,  I  set  him  upon  her. 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  69 

I  gave  him  rice  and  goat's  flesh.     He  bared  me 

to  laughter. 
When  he  was  gone  from  my  tent,  swift  I  followed 

after, 
Taking  my  sword  in  my  hand.     The  hot  wine 

had  filled  him. 
Under  the  stars  he  mocked  me  —  therefore  I 

killed  him! 


GALLIO'S  SONG 

(And  Gallic  cared  for  none  of  these  things.  —  Acts  xviii,  17) 

All  day  long  to  the  judgment-seat 
The  crazed  Provincials  drew  — 
All  day  long  at  their  ruler's  feet 
Howled  for  the  blood  of  the  Jew. 
Insurrection  with  one  accord 
Banded  itself  and  woke, 
And  Paul  was  about  to  open  his  mouth 
When  Achaia's  Deputy  spoke  — 

"Whether  the  God  descend  from  above 
Or  the  Man  ascend  upon  high, 
Whether  this  maker  of  tents  be  Jove 
Or  a  younger  deity  — 
I  will  be  no  judge  between  your  gods 
And  your  godless  bickerings. 
Lictor,  drive  them  hence  with  rods 
I  care  for  none  of  these  things! 

Were  it  a  question  of  lawful  due 
Or  Caesar's  rule  denied, 

70 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  71 

Reason  would  I  should  bear  with  you 

And  order  it  well  to  be  tried; 

But  this  is  a  question  of  words  and  names. 

I  know  the  strife  it  brings. 

I  will  not  pass  upon  any  your  claims. 

I  care  for  none  of  these  things. 

One  thing  only  I  see  most  clear, 

As  I  pray  you  also  see. 

Claudius  Csesar  hath  set  me  here 

Rome's  Deputy  to  be. 

It  is  Her  peace  that  ye  go  to  break  — 

Not  mine,  nor  any  king's, 

But,   touching  your   clamour   of  "Conscience 

sake," 
I  care  for  none  of  these  things. 

Whether  ye  rise  for  the  sake  of  a  creed, 
Or  riot  in  hope  of  spoil, 
Equally  will  I  punish  the  deed, 
Equally  check  the  broil; 
Nowise  permitting  injustice  at  all 
From  whatever  doctrine  it  springs  — 
But  —  whether  ye  follow  Priapus  or  Paul, 
I  care  for  none  of  these  things," 


THE  BEES  AND  THE  FLIES 

A  Farmer  of  the  Augustan  Age 
Perused  in  Virgil's  golden  page, 
The  story  of  the  secret  won 
From  Proteus  by  Gyrene's  son  — 
How  the  dank  sea-god  showed  the  swain 
Means  to  restore  his  hives  again. 
More  briefly,  how  a  slaughtered  bull 
Breeds  honey  by  the  bellyful. 

The  egregious  rustic  put  to  death 

A  bull  by  stopping  of  its  breath, 

Disposed  the  carcass  in  a  shed 

With  fragrant  herbs  and  branches  spread, 

And,  having  thus  performed  the  charm, 

Sat  down  to  wait  the  promised  swarm. 

Nor  waited  long.     The  God  of  Day 
Impartial,  quickening  with  his  ray 
Evil  and  good  alike,  beheld 
The  carcass  —  and  the  carcass  swelled. 

72 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  73 

Big  with  new  birth  the  belly  heaves 
Beneath  its  screen  of  scented  leaves, 
Past  any  doubt,  the  bull  conceives! 

The  farmer  bids  men  bring  more  hives 
To  house  the  profit  that  arrives; 
Prepares  on  pan,  and  key  and  kettle, 
Sweet  music  that  shall  make  'em  settle; 
But  when  to  crown  the  work  he  goes, 
Gods!     What  a  stink  salutes  his  nose! 
Where  are  the  honest  toilers?     Where 
The  gravid  mistress  of  their  care? 
A  busy  scene,  indeed,  he  sees, 
But  not  a  sign  or  sound  of  bees. 
Worms  of  the  riper  grave  unhid 
By  any  kindly  coffin  lid, 
Obscene  and  shameless  to  the  light 
Seethe  in  insatiate  appetite, 
Through  putrid  offal,  while  above 
The  hissing  blow-fly  seeks  his  love, 
Whose  offspring,  supping  where  they  supt, 
Consume  corruption  twice  corrupt. 


"OUR  FATHERS  ALSO" 

Thrones,  Powers,  Dominions,  Peoples,  Kings, 
Are  changing  'neath  our  hand; 
Our  fathers  also  see  these  things 
But  they  do  not  understand. 

By  —  they  are  by  with  mirth  and  tears, 
Wit  or  the  works  of  Desire  — 
Cushioned  about  on  the  kindly  years 
Between  the  wall  and  the  fire. 

The  grapes  are  pressed,  the  corn  is  shocked  — 
Standeth  no  more  to  glean; 
For  the  Gates  of  Love  and  Learning  locked 
When  they  went  out  between. 

All  lore  our  Lady  Venus  bares, 
Signalled  it  was  or  told 
By  the  dear  lips  long  given  to  theirs 
And  longer  to  the  mould. 

74 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  75 

All  Profit,  all  Device,  all  Truth 
Written  it  was  or  said 

By  the  mighty  men  of  their  mighty  youth, 
Which  is  mighty  being  dead. 

The  film  that  floats  before  their  eyes 
The  Temple's  Veil  they  call; 
And  the  dust  that  on  the  Shewbread  lies 
Is  holy  over  all. 

Warn  them  of  seas  that  slip  our  yoke 
Of  slow -conspiring  stars  — 
The  ancient  Front  of  Things  unbroke 
But  heavy  with  new  wars? 

By  —  they  are  by  with  mirth  and  tears, 
Wit  or  the  waste  of  Desire  — 
Cushioned  about  on  the  kindly  years 
Between  the  wall  and  the  fire 


A  BRITISH-ROMAN  SONG 

(A.  D.  406) 

My  father's  father  saw  it  not, 

And  I,  belike,  shall  never  come, 
To  look  on  that  so-holy  spot  — 

The  very  Rome  — 

Crowned  by  all  Time,  all  Art,  all  Might 

The  equal  work  of  Gods  and  Man, 
City  beneath  whose  oldest  height  — 
The  Race  began! 

Soon  to  send  forth  again  a  brood, 

Unshakeable,  we  pray,  that  clings, 
To  Rome's  thrice-hammered  hardihood  — 
In  arduous  things. 

Strong  heart  with  triple  armour  bound, 
Beat  strongly,  for  thy  life-blood  runs, 
Age  after  Age,  the  Empire  round  — 
In  us  thy  Sons 

76 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  77 

Who,  distant  from  the  Seven  Hills, 
Loving  and  serving  much,  require 
Thee — thee  to  guard  'gainst  home-born  ills, 
The  Imperial  Fire! 


A  PICT  SONG 

Rome  never  looks  where  she  treads. 

Always  her  heavy  hooves  fall, 
On  our  stomachs,  our  hearts  or  our  heads; 

And  Rome  never  heeds  when  we  bawl. 
Her  sentries  pass  on  —  that  is  all, 

And  we  gather  behind  them  in  hordes, 
And  plot  to  reconquer  the  Wall, 

With  only  our  tongues  for  our  swords. 

We  are  the  Little  Folk  —  we! 

Too  little  to  love  or  to  hate. 
Leave  us  alone  and  you'll  see 

How  we  can  drag  down  the  State! 
We  are  the  worm  in  the  wood! 

We  are  the  rot  at  the  root! 
We  are  the  germ  in  the  blood! 

We  are  the  thorn  in  the  foot! 

Mistletoe  killing  an  oak  — 

Rats  gnawing  cables  in  two  — 

Moths  making  holes  in  a  cloak  — 
How  they  must  love  what  they  do! 

78 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  79 

Yes  —  and  we  Little  Folk  too, 

We  are  busy  as  they  — 
Working  our  works  out  of  view  — 

Watch,  and  you'll  see  it  some  day! 

No  indeed!     We  are  not  strong, 

But  we  know  Peoples  that  are. 
Yes,  and  we'll  guide  them  along; 

To  smash  and  destroy  you  in  War! 
We  shall  be  slaves  just  the  same? 

Yes,  we  have  always  been  slaves, 
But  you  —  you  will  die  of  the  shame, 

And  then  we  shall  dance  on  your  graves! 

We  are  the  Little  Folk,  we,  etc. 


THE  STRANGER 

The  Stranger  within  my  gate, 

He  may  be  true  or  kind, 
But  he  does  not  talk  my  talk  — 

I  cannot  feel  his  mind. 
I  see  the  face  and  the  eyes  and  the  mouth, 

But  not  the  soul  behind. 

The  men  of  my  own  stock 

They  may  do  ill  or  well, 
But  they  tell  the  lies  I  am  wonted  to, 

They  are  used  to  the  lies  I  tell. 
We  do  not  need  interpreters 

When  we  go  to  buy  and  sell. 

The  Stranger  within  my  gates, 

He  may  be  evil  or  good, 
But  I  cannot  tell  what  powers  control  — 

What  reasons  sway  his  mood; 
Nor  when  the  Gods  of  his  far-off  land 

May  repossess  his  blood. 

80 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  81 

The  men  of  my  own  stock, 

Bitter  bad  they  may  be, 
But,  at  least,  they  hear  the  things  I  hear, 

And  see  the  things  I  see; 
And  whatever  I  think  cf  them  and  their  likes 

They  think  of  the  likes  of  me. 

This  was  my  father's  belief 

And  this  is  also  mine: 
Let  the  corn  be  all  one  sheaf  — 

And  the  grapes  be  all  one  vine, 
Ere  our  children's  teeth  are  set  on  edge 

By  bitter  bread  and  wine. 


'RIMINI" 

(Marching  Song  of  a  Roman  Legion  of  the  Later  Empire) 

When  I  left  Rome  for  Lalage's  sake 

By  the  Legions'  road  to  Rimini, 

She  vowed  her  heart  was  mine  to  take 

With  me  and  my  shield  to  Rimini 

(Till  the  Eagles  flew  from  Rimini) 

And  I've  tramped  Britain,  and  I've  tramped  Gaul, 

And  the  Pontic  shore  where  the  snow  flakes  fall 

As  white  as  the  neck  of  Lalage  — 

(As  cold  as  the  heart  of  Lalage!) 

And  I've  lost  Britain,  and  I've  lost  Gaul 

And  I've  lost  Rome,  and  worst  of  all, 

I've  lost  Lalage! 

When  you  go  by  the  Via  Aurelia, 

As  thousands  have  travelled  before, 

Remember  the  Luck  of  the  Soldier 

Who  never  sawr  Rome  any  more! 

Oh  dear  was  the  sweetheart  that  kissed  him 

And  dear  was  the  mother  that  bore, 

82 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  83 

But  his  shield  was  picked  up  in  the  heather, 
And  he  never  saw  Rome  any  more! 

And  he  left  Rome,  etc. 

When  you  go  by  the  Via  Aurelia 
That  runs  from  the  City  to  Gaul, 
Remember  the  Luck  of  the  Soldier 
Who  rose  to  be  master  of  all! 
He  carried  the  sword  and  the  buckler 
He  mounted  his  guard  on  the  Wall, 
Till  the  Legions  elected  him  Csesar, 
And  he  rose  to  be  master  of  all! 

And  he  left  Rome,  etc. 

It's  twenty-five  marches  to  Narbo, 

It's  forty-five  more  up  the  Rhone, 

And  the  end  may  be  death  in  the  heather 

Or  life  on  an  Emperor's  throne; 

But  whether  the  Eagles  obey  us, 

Or  we  go  to  the  Ravens  —  alone, 

I'd  sooner  be  Lalage's  lover 

Than  sit  on  an  Emperor's  throne! 

We've  all  left  Rome  for  Lalage's  sake,  etc. 


'POOR  HONEST  MEN" 

(A.  D.  1800) 

Your  jar  of  Virginny 

Will  cost  you  a  guinea 

Which  you  reckon  too  much  by  five  shillings  or 

ten; 

But  light  your  churchwarden 
And  judge  it  according, 
When  I've  told  you  the  troubles  of  poor  honest 

men. 

From  the  Capes  of  the  Delaware, 
As  you  are  well  aware, 

We  sail  with  tobacco  for  England  —  but  then, 
Our  own  British  cruisers, 
They  watch  us  come  through,  sirs, 
And  they  press  half  a  score  of  us  poor  honest 
men! 

Or  if  by  quick  sailing 

(Thick  weather  prevailing) 

We  leave  them  behind  (as  we  do  now  and  then) 

84 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  85 

We  are  sure  of  a  gun  from 

Each  frigate  we  run  from, 

Which  is  often  destruction  to  poor  honest  men ! 

Broadsides  the  Atlantic 

We  tumble  short-handed, 

With  shot-holes  to  plug  and  new  canvas  to  bend, 

And  off  the  Azores, 

Dutch,  Dons  and  Monsieurs 

Are  waiting  to  terrify  poor  honest  men. 

Napoleon's  embargo 
Is  laid  on  all  cargo 

Which  comfort  or  aid  to  King  George  may  in- 
tend, 

And  since  roll,  twist  and  leaf, 
Of  all  comforts  is  chief, 
They  try  for  to  steal  it  from  poor  honest  men! 

With  no  heart  for  fight, 

We  take  refuge  in  flight 

But  fire  as  we  run,  our  retreat  to  defend, 

Until  our  stern-chasers 

Cut  up  her  fore-braces, 

And  she  flies  up  the  wind  from  us  poorlionest  men ! 


86  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Twix'  the  Forties  and  Fifties, 
South-eastward  the  drift  is, 
And  so,  when  we  think  we  are  making  Land's  End, 
Alas,  it  is  Ushant 
With  half  the  King's  Navy, 
Blockading  French  ports  against  poor   honest 
men! 

But  they  may  not  quit  station 

(Which  is  our  salvation) 

So  swiftly  we  stand  to  the  Nor'ard  again; 

And  finding  the  tail  of 

A  homeward  bound  convoy, 

We  slip  past  the  Scillies  like  poor  honest  men. 

Twix'  the  Lizard  and  Dover, 

We  hand  our  stuff  over, 

Though  I  may  not  inform  how  we  do  it,  nor 

when. 

But  a  light  on  each  quarter 
Low  down  on  the  water 
Is  well  understanded  by  poor  honest  men! 

Even  then  we  have  dangers, 
From  meddlesome  strangers, 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  87 

Who  spy  on  our  business  and  are  not  content 
To  take  a  smooth  answer, 
Except  with  a  handspike     .     .     . 
And  they  say  they  are  murdered  by  poor  honest 
men! 

To  be  drowned  or  be  shot 

Is  our  natural  lot, 

Why  should  we,  moreover,  be  hanged  in  the 

end  — 

After  all  our  great  pains 
For  to  dangle  in  chains 
As  though  we  were  smugglers,  not  poor  honest 

men? 


"WHEN  THE  GREAT  ARK" 

When  the  Great  Ark,  in  Vigo  Bay, 

Rode  stately  through  the  half -manned  fleet, 

From  every  ship  about  her  way 
She  heard  the  mariners  entreat  — 

"Before  we  take  the  seas  again 

Let  down  your  boats  and  send  us  men! 

"We  have  no  lack  of  victual  here 

With  work  —  God  knows!  —  enough  for  all, 
To  hand  and  reef  and  watch  and  steer, 

Because  our  present  strength  is  small. 
While  your  three  decks  are  crowded  so 
Your  crews  can  scarcely  stand  or  go. 

"'In  war,  your  numbers  do  but  raise 

Confusion  and  divided  will; 
In  storm,  the  mindless  deep  obeys 

Not  multitudes  but  single  skill; 
In  calm,  your  numbers,  closely  pressed, 
Must  breed  a  mutiny  or  pest. 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  89 

"We,  even  on  unchallenged  seas, 

Dare  not  adventure  where  we  would, 

But  forfeit  brave  advantages 

For  lack  of  men  to  make  'em  good; 

Whereby,  to  England's  double  cost, 

Honour  and  profit  both  are  lost!" 


PROPHETS  AT  HOME 

Prophets  have  honour  all  over  the  Earth, 
Except  in  the  village  where  they  were  born; 

Where  such  as  knew  them  boys  from  birth, 
Nature-ally  hold  'em  in  scorn. 

When  Prophets  are  naughty  and  young  and  vain, 
They  make  a  won'erful  grievance  of  it. 

(You  can  see  by  their  writings  how  they  com- 
plain), 
But  O,  'tis  won'erful  good  for  the  Prophet! 

There's  nothing  Nineveh  Town  can  give 
(Nor  being  swallowed  by  whales  between), 

Makes  up  for  the  place  where  a  man's  folk  live, 
Which  don't  care  nothing  what  he  has  been. 

He  might  ha'  been  that,  or  he  might  ha'  been 
this, 

But  they  love  and  they  hate  him  for  what  he  is. 


90 


JUBAL  AND  TUBAL  CAIN 

Jubal  sang  of  the  Wrath  of  God 

And  the  curse  of  thistle  and  thorn  — 
But  Tubal  got  him  a  pointed  rod, 
And  scrabbled  the  earth  for  corn. 
Old  —  old  as  that  early  mould, 

Young  as  the  sprouting  grain  — 
Yearly  green  is  the  strife  between 
Jubal  and  Tubal  Cain! 

Jubal  sang  of  the  new-found  sea, 

And  the  love  that  its  waves  divide  — 
But  Tubal  hollowed  a  fallen  tree 
And  passed  to  the  further  side. 
Black  —  black  as  the  hurricane-wrack, 

Salt  as  the  under-main  — 
Bitter  and  cold  is  the  hate  they  hold  — 
Jubal  and  Tubal  Cain! 

Jubal  sang  of  the  golden  years 

When  wars  and  wounds  shall  cease  — 

But  Tubal  fashioned  the  hand-flung  spears 
And  showed  his  neighbours  peace. 

91 


92  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

New  —  new  as  the  Nine  point  Two, 
Older  than  Lamech's  slain  — 

Roaring  and  loud  is  the  feud  avowed 
Twix5  Jubal  and  Tubal  Cain! 

Jubal  sang  of  the  cliffs  that  bar 

And  the  peaks  that  none  may  crown  — 
But  Tubal  clambered  by  jut  and  scar 
And  there  he  builded  a  town. 
High  —  high  as  the  snowsheds  lie, 

Low  as  the  culverts  drain  — 
Wherever  they  be  they  can  never  agree  - 
Jubal  and  Tubal  Cain! 


THE  VOORTREKKER 

The  gull  shall  whistle  in  his  wake,  the  blind  wave 

break  in  fire. 
He  shall  fulfil  God's  utmost  will,  unknowing  his 

desire. 
And  he  shall  see  old  planets  change  and  alien 

stars  arise, 
And  give  the  gale  his  seaworn  sail  in  shadow  of 

new  skies, 
Strong  lust  of  gear  shall  drive  him  forth  and 

hunger  arm  his  hand, 

To  win  his  food  from  the  desert  rude,  his  pit- 
tance from  the  sand. 
His  neighbours'  smoke  shall  vex  his  eyes,  their 

voices  break  his  rest. 
He  shall  go  forth  till  south  is  north  sullen  and 

dispossessed. 
He  shall  desire  loneliness  and  his  desire  shall 

bring, 
Hard  on  his  heels,  a  thousand  wheels,  a  People 

and  a  King. 

93 


94  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

He  shall  come  back  on  his  own  track,  and  by  his 
scarce-cooled  camp 

There  shall  he  meet  the  roaring  street,  the  der- 
rick and  the  stamp: 

There  he  shall  blaze  a  nation's  ways  with 
hatchet  and  with  brand, 

Till  on  his  last-won  wilderness  an  Empire's  out- 
posts stand. 


A  SCHOOL  SONG 

"Let  us  now  praise  famous  men" — ^ 

Men  of  little  showing  — 
For  their  work  continueth9 
And  their  work  continueth, 
Broad  and  deep  continueth9 

Greater  than  their  knowing!        ./ 

Western  wind  and  open  surge 
Took  us  from  our  mothers, 

Flung  us  on  a  naked  shore 

(Twelve  bleak  houses  by  the  shore! 

Seven  summers  by  the  shore!) 
'Mid  two  hundred  brothers. 

There  we  met  with  famous  men 

Set  in  office  o'er  us; 
And  they  beat  on  us  with  rods  — 
Faithfully  with  many  rods  — 
Daily  beat  us  on  with  rods, 

For  the  love  they  bore  us! 

95 


96  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Out  of  Egypt  unto  Troy  — 

Over  Himalaya  — 

Far  and  sure  our  bands  have  gone  — 
Hy-Brasil  or  Babylon, 
Islands  of  the  Southern  Run, 

And  Cities  of  Cathaia! 

And  we  all  praise  famous  men  — 

Ancients  of  the  College; 
For  they  taught  us  common  sense  — 
Tried  to  teach  us  common  sense  — 
Truth  and  God's  Own  Common  Sense, 

Which  is  more  than  knowledge! 

Each  degree  of  Latitude 

Strung  about  Creation 
Seeth  one  or  more  of  us 
(Of  one  muster  each  of  us), 
Diligent  in  that  he  does, 

Keen  in  his  vocation. 

This  we  learned  from  famous  men, 

Knowing  not  its  uses, 
When  they  showed,  in  daily  work, 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  97 

Man  must  finish  off  his  work  — 
Right  or  wrong,  his  daily  work  — 
And  without  excuses. 

Servants  of  the  Staff  and  chain, 

Mine  and  fuse  and  grapnel  — 
Some  before  the  face  of  Kings, 
Stand  before  the  face  of  Kings; 
Bearing  gifts  to  divers  Kings  — 

Gifts  of  case  and  shrapnel. 

This  we  learned  from  famous  men 

Teaching  in  our  borders, 
Who  declared  it  was  best, 
Safest,  easiest,  and  best  — 
Expeditious,  wise,  and  best  — 

To  obey  your  orders. 

Some  beneath  the  further  stars 

Bear  the  greater  burden: 
Set  to  serve  the  lands  they  rule, 
(Save  he  serve  no  man  may  rule), 
Serve  and  love  the  lands  they  rule; 

Seeking  praise  nor  guerdon. 


98  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

This  we  learned  from  famous  men, 

Knowing  not  we  learned  it. 
Only,  as  the  years  went  by  — 
Lonely,  as  the  years  went  by  — 
Far  from  help  as  years  went  by, 
Plainer  we  discerned  it. 

Wherefore  praise  we  famous  men 
From  whose  bays  we  borrow  — 
They  that  put  aside  To-day  — 
All  the  joys  of  their  To-day  — 
And  with  toil  of  their  To-day 
Bought  for  us  To-morrow! 

Bless  and  praise  we  famous  men  — 

Men  of  little  showing  — 
For  their  work  continueth, 
And  their  work  continueth, 
Broad  and  deep  continueth, 

Great  beyond  their  knowing! 


"A  SERVANT  WHEN  HE  REIGNETH" 

(For  three  things  the  earth  is  disquieted,  and  for  four  which  it  cannot 
bear.  For  a  servant  when  he  reigneth  and  a  fool  when  he  is  filled  with 
meat;  for  an  odious  woman  when  she  is  married,  and  an  handmaid  that 
is  heir  to  her  mistress.  —  Prov.  xxx.  21-22-23.) 

Three  things  make  earth  unquiet 
And  four  she  cannot  brook 
The  godly  Agur  counted  them 
And  put  them  in  a  book  — 
Those  Four  Tremendous  Curses 
With  which  mankind  is  cursed 
But  a  Servant  when  he  Reigneth 
Old  Agur  counted  first. 

An  Handmaid  that  is  Mistress 

We  need  not  call  upon, 

A  Fool  when  he  is  full  of  Meat 

Will  fall  asleep  anon. 

An  Odious  Woman  Married 

May  bear  a  babe  and  mend, 

But  a  Servant  when  He  Reigneth 

Is  Confusion  to  the  end. 

99 


100  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

His  feet  are  swift  to  tumult, 
His  hands  are  slow  to  toil, 
His  ears  are  deaf  to  reason, 
His  lips  are  loud  in  broil. 
He  knows  no  use  for  power 
Except  to  show  his  might, 
He  gives  no  heed  to  judgment 
Unless  it  prove  him  right. 

Because  he  served  a  master 

Before  his  Kingship  came, 

And  hid  in  all  disaster 

Behind  his  master's  name. 

So,  when  his  Folly  opens 

The  unnecessary  hells, 

A  Servant  when  He  Reigneth 

Throws  the  blame  on  some  one  else. 

His  vows  are  lightly  spoken, 
His  faith  is  hard  to  bind, 
His  trust  is  easy  broken, 
He  fears  his  fellow-kind. 
The  nearest  mob  will  move  him 
To  break  the  pledge  he  gave  — 
Oh  a  Servant  when  He  Reigneth 
Is  more  than  ever  slave! 


'OUR  FATHERS  OF  OLD" 

Excellent  herbs  had  our  fathers  of  old  — 

Excellent  herbs  to  ease  their  pain  — 
Alexanders  and  Marigold, 

Eyebright,  Orris,  and  Elecampane. 
Basil,  Rocket,  Valerian,  Rue, 

(Almost  singing  themselves  they  run) 
Vervain,  Dittany,  Call-me-to-you  — 

Cowslip,  Melilot,  Rose  of  the  Sun. 

Anything  green  that  grew  out  of  the  mould 
Was  an  excellent  herb  to  our  fathers  of  old. 

Wonderful  tales  had  our  fathers  of  old 

Wonderful  tales  of  the  herbs  and  the  stars  — 
The  Sun  was  Lord  of  the  Marigold, 

Basil  and  Rocket  belonged  to  Mars. 
Pat  as  a  sum  in  division  it  goes  — 

(Every  plant  had  a  star  bespoke)  — 
Who  but  Venus  should  govern  the  Rose? 

Who  but  Jupiter  own  the  Oak? 

Simply  and  gravely  the  facts  are  told 

In  the  wonderful  books  of  our  fathers  of  old. 
101 


SONGS.  FROM  BOOKS 


Wonderful  little,  when  all  is  said, 

Wonderful  little  our  fathers  knew. 
Half  their  remedies  cured  you  dead  — 

Most  of  their  teaching  was  quite  untrue 
"Look  at  the  stars  when  a  patient  is  ill, 

(Dirt  has  nothing  to  do  with  disease,) 
Bleed  and  blister  as  much  as  you  will, 

Blister  and  bleed  him  as  oft  as  you  please." 
WTience  enormous  and  manifold 
Errors  were  made  by  our  fathers  of  old. 

Yet  when  the  sickness  was  sore  in  the  land, 

And  neither  planets  nor  herbs  assuaged, 
They  took  their  lives  in  their  lancet-hand 

And,  oh,  what  a  wonderful  war  they  waged ! 
Yes,  when  the  crosses  were  chalked  on  the  door — 

Yes,  when  the  terrible  dead-cart  rolled, 
Excellent  courage  our  fathers  bore  — 

Excellent  heart  had  our  fathers  of  old, 
None  too  learned,  but  nobly  bold 
Into  the  fight  went  our  fathers  of  old. 

If  it  be  certain,  as  Galen  says, 

And  sage  Hippocrates  holds  as  much  — 
"That  those  afflicted  by  doubts  and  dismays 

Are  mightily  helped  by  a  dead  man's  touch," 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  103 

Then,  be  good  to  us,  stars  above! 

Then,  be  good  to  us,  herbs  below! 
We  are  afflicted  by  what  we  can  prove, 
We  are  distracted  by  what  we  know. 

So  —  ah,  so ! 
Down  from  your  heaven  or  up  from  your 

mould, 
Send  us  the  hearts  of  our  fathers  of  old! 


THE  HERITAGE 

Our  Fathers  in  a  wondrous  age, 

Ere  yet  the  Earth  was  small, 
Ensured  to  us  an  heritage, 

And  doubted  not  at  all 
That  we,  the  children  of  their  heart, 

Which  then  did  beat  so  high, 
In  later  time  should  play  like  part 

For  our  posterity. 

A  thousand  years  they  steadfast  built, 

To  'vantage  us  and  ours, 
The  Walls  that  were  a  world's  despair, 

The  sea-constraining  Towers: 
Yet  in  their  midmost  pride  they  knew, 

And  unto  Kings  made  known, 
Not  all  from  these  their  strength  they  drew, 

Their  faith  from  brass  or  stone. 

Youth's  passion,  manhood's  fierce  intent, 
With  age's  judgment  wise, 

104 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  105 

They  spent,  and  counted  not  they  spent, 

At  daily  sacrifice. 
Not  lambs  alone  nor  purchased  doves 

Or  tithe  of  trader's  gold  — 
Their  lives  most  dear,  their  dearer  loves, 

They  offered  up  of  old. 

Refraining  e'en  from  lawful  things, 

They  bowed  the  neck  to  bear 
The  unadorned  yoke  that  brings 

Stark  toil  and  sternest  care. 
Wherefore  through  them  is  Freedom  sure; 

Wherefore  through  them  we  stand 
From  all  but  sloth  and  pride  secure, 

In  a  delightsome  land. 

Then,  fretful,  murmur  not  they  gave 

So  great  a  charge  to  keep, 
Nor  dream  that  awestruck  Time  shall  save 

Their  labour  while  we  sleep. 
Dear-bought  and  clear,  a  thousand  year, 

Our  fathers'  title  runs. 
Make  we  likewise  their  sacrifice, 

Defrauding  not  our  sons. 


SONG  OF  THE  FIFTH  RIVER 

When  first  by  Eden  Tree, 
The  Four  Great  Rivers  ran, 
To  each  was  appointed  a  Man 
Her  Prince  and  Ruler  to  be 

But  after  this  was  ordained, 
(The  ancient  legends  tell), 
There  came  dark  Israel, 
For  whom  no  River  remained. 

Then  He  Whom  the  Rivers  obey 

Said  to  him:  "Fling  on  the  ground 

A  handful  of  yellow  clay, 

And  a  Fifth  Great  River  shall  run, 

Mightier  than  these  Four, 

In  secret  the  Earth  around; 

And  Her  secret  evermore, 

Shall  be  shown  to  thee  and  thy  Race/ 

So  it  was  said  and  done. 

And,  deep  in  the  veins  of  Earth, 

And,  fed  by  a  thousand  springs 

106 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  107 

That  comfort  the  market-place, 
Or  sap  the  power  of  Kings, 
The  Fifth  Great  River  had  birth, 
Even  as  it  was  foretold  — 
The  Secret  River  of  Gold! 

And  Israel  laid  down 

His  sceptre  and  his  crown, 

To  brood  on  that  River  bank, 

Where  the  waters  flashed  and  sank, 

And  burrowed  in  earth  and  fell, 

And  bided  a  season  below, 

For  reason  that  none  might  know, 

Save  only  Israel. 

He  is  Lord  of  the  Last  — 

The  Fifth,  most  wonderful,  Flood. 

He  hears  Her  thunder  past 

And  Her  Song  is  in  his.  blood. 

He  can  foresay:  "She  will  fall," 

For  he  knows  which  fountain  dries 

Behind  which  desert-belt 

A  thousand  leagues  to  the  South. 

He  can  foresay:  "She  will  rise." 
He  knows  what  far  snows  melt; 


108  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Along  what  mountain-wall 

A  thousand  leagues  to  the  North. 

He  snuffs  the  coming  drouth 

As  he  snuffs  the  coming  rain, 

He  knows  what  each  will  bring  forth, 

And  turns  it  to  his  gain. 

A  Ruler  without  a  Throne, 

A  Prince  without  a  Sword, 

Israel  follows  his  quest. 

In  every  land  a  guest, 

Of  many  lands  a  lord, 

In  no  land  King  is  he. 

But  the  Fifth  Great  River  keeps 

The  secret  of  Her  deeps 

For  Israel  alone, 

As  it  was  ordered  to  be. 


CHAPTER  HEADINGS 
THE  NAULAHKA 

We  meet  in  an  evil  land 

That  is  near  to  the  gates  of  hell. 

I  wait  for  thy  command 

To  serve,  to  speed  or  withstand. 

And  thou  sayest,  I  do  not  well? 

Oh  Love,  the  flowers  so  red 

Are  only  tongues  of  flame 

The  earth  is  full  of  the  dead, 

The  new-killed,  restless  dead. 

There  is  danger  beneath  and  o'erhead 

And  I  guard  thy  gates  in  fear 

Of  peril  and  jeopardy 
Of  words  thou  canst  not  hear 
Of  signs  thou  canst  not  see 
And  thou  sayest  'tis  ill  that  I  come? 


This  I  saw  when  the  rites  were  done 

And  the  lamps  were  dead  and  the  Gods  alone, 


109 


110  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

And  the  grey  snake  coiled  on  the  altar  stone. 

Ere  I  fled  from  a  Fear  that  I  could  not  see 

And  the  Gods  of  the  East  made  mouths  at  me. 


Now  it  is  not  good  for  the  Christian's  health  to 

hustle  the  Aryan  brown, 
For  the  Christian  riles  and  the  Aryan  smiles  and 

he  weareth  the  Aryan  down; 
And  the  end  of  the  fight  is  a  tombstone  white 

with  the  name  of  the  late  deceased, 
And  the  epitaph  drear;  —  "A  fool  lies  here  who 

tried  to  hustle  the  East." 


Beat  off  in  our  last  fight  were  we? 

The  greater  need  to  seek  the  sea. 

For  Fortune  changeth  as  the  moon 

To  caravel  and  picaroon. 

Then  Eastward  Ho!     Or  Westward  Ho! 

Whichever  wind  may  meetest  blow 

Our  quarry  sails  on  either  sea 

Fat  prey  for  such  bold  lads  as  we 

And  every  sun-dried  buccaneer 

Must  hand  and  reef  and  watch  and  steer, 

And  bear  great  wrath  of  sea  and  sky 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  111 

Before  the  plate-ships  wallow  by. 
Now  as  our  tall  bows  take  the  foam 
Let  no  man  turn  his  heart  to  home 
Save  to  desire  treasure  more 
And  larger  warehouse  for  his  store 
When  treasure  trove  from  Santos  Bay 
Shall  make  our  sea-washed  village  gay. 


Because  I  sought  it  far  from  men 
In  deserts  and  alone 
I  found  it  burning  overhead 
The  jewel' of  a  Throne. 

Because  I  sought  —  I  sought  it  so 
And  spent  my  days  to  find 
It  blazed  one  moment  ere  it  left 
The  blacker  night  behind. 


When  a  lover  hies  abroad 

Looking  for  his  love, 

Azrael  smiling  sheathes  his  sword, 

Heaven  smiles  above. 

Earth  and  sea 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

His  servants  be 

And  to  lesser  compass  round 

That  his  love  be  sooner  found. 


There  was  a  strife  'twixt  man  and  maid 
Oh  that  was  at  the  birth  of  time! 
But  what  befell  'twixt  man  and  maid 
Oh  that's  beyond  the  grip  of  rhyme. 
'Twas,  "Sweet  I  must  not  bide  with  you: 
And  "Love  I  cannot  bide  alone;" 
For  both  were  young  and  both  were  true 
And  both  were  hard  as  the  nether  stone. 


There  is  pleasure  in  the  wet  wet  clay, 
When  the  artist's  hand  is  potting  it. 
There  is  pleasure  in  the  wet  wet  lay, 
When  the  poet's  pad  is  blotting  it. 
There  is  pleasure  in  the  shine  of  your  picture  on 

the  line 

At  the  Royal  Acade-my, 
But  the  pleasure  felt  in  these,  is  as  chalk  to 

Cheddar  cheese 

When  it  comes  to  a  well-made  Lie. 
To  a  quite  unwreckable  Lie 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  113 

To  a  most  impeccable  Lie! 

To  a  water-tight,  fireproof,  angle-iron,  sunk- 
hinge,  time-lock,  steel-faced  Lie ! 

Not  a  private  hansom  Lie 

But  a  pair-and-brougham  Lie 

Not  a  little  place  at  Tooting,  but  a  country-house 
with  shooting 

And  a  ring-fence,  deer-park  Lie. 


THE  LIGHT  THAT  FAILED 

So  we  settled  it  all  when  the  storm  was  done 

As  comfy  as  comfy  could  be 

And  I  was  to  wait  in  the  barn,  my  dears, 

Because  I  was  only  three. 

And  Teddy  would  run  to  the  rainbow's  foot 

Because  he  was  five  and  a  man; 

And  that's  how  it  all  began,  my  dears, 

And  that's  how  it  all  began. 


114  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

"If  I  have  taken  the  common  clay 
And  wrought  it  cunningly. 
In  the  shape  of  a  God   that   was    digged    a 

clod 

The  greater  honour  to  me" 
"If  thou  hast  taken  the  common  clay 
And  thy  hands  be  not  free, 
From  the  taint  of  the   soil  thou   hast  made 

thy  spoil 
The  greater  shame  to  thee  " 


The  wolf-cub  at  even  lay  hid  in  the  corn 
Where  the  smoke  of  the  cooking  hung  grey 
He  knew  where  the  doe  made  a  couch  for  her 

fawn, 

And  he  looked  to  his  strength  for  his  prey. 
But  the  moon  swept  the  smoke-wreaths  away 
And  he  turned  from  his  meal  in  the  villager's 

close 
And  he  bayed  to  the  moon  as  she  rose. 


The  lark  will  make  her  hymn  to  God 
The  partridge  call  her  brood 
While  J  forget  the  heath  I  trod 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  115 

The  fields  wherein  I  stood. 

Tis  dule  to  know  not  night  from  morn 

But  greater  dule  to  know, 

I  can  but  hear  the  hunter's  horn 

That  once  I  used  to  blow. 


There  were  three  friends  that  buried  the  fourth 
The  mould  in  his  mouth  and  the  dust  in  his  eyes, 
And  they  went  south  and  east  and  north  — 
The  strong  man  fights  but  the  sick  man  dies. 
There   were   three   friends   that   spoke   of   the 

dead  — 

The  strong  man  fights  but  the  sick  man  dies  — 
"And  would  he  were  here  with  us  now"  they 

said 
The  sun  in  our  face  and  the  wind  in  our  eyes. 


Yet  at  the  last,  ere  our  spearmen  had  found  him 
Yet  at  the  last  ere  a  sword-thrust  could  save 
Yet  at  the  last,  with  his  masters  around  him 
He  spoke  of  the  Faith  as  a  master  to  slave. 
Yet  at  the  last,  though  the  Kafirs  had  maimed 
him, 


116  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Broken  by  bondage  and  wrecked  by  the  reiver, 
Yet  at  the  last,  tho'  the  darkness  had  claimed 

him 
He  called  upon  Allah,  and  died  a  Believer! 


THE  CHILDREN'S  SONG 

Land  of  our  Birth,  we  pledge  to  thee~~ 
Our  love  and  toil  in  the  years  to  be; 
When  we  are  grown  and  take  our  place, 

As  men  and  women  with  our  race. 

„ — — -' 

Father  in  Heaven  who  lovest  all. 
Oh  help  Thy  children  when  they  call; 
That  they  may  build  from  age  to  age, 
An  undefiled  heritage. 

Teach  us  to  bear  the  yoke  in  youth, 
With  steadfastness  and  careful  truth; 
That,  in  our  time,  Thy  Grace  may  give 
The  Truth  whereby  the  Nations  live. 

Teach  us  to  rule  ourselves  alway, 
Controlled  and  cleanly  night  and  day; 
That  we  may  bring,  if  need  arise, 
No  maimed  or  worthless  sacrifice. 

Teach  us  to  look  in  all  our  ends, 

On  Thee  for  judge,  and  not  our  friends; 

117 


118  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

That  we,  with  Thee,  may  walk  uncowed 
By  fear  or  favour  of  the  crowd. 

Teach  us  the  Strength  that  cannot  seek, 
By  deed  or  thought,  to  hurt  the  weak; 
That,  under  Thee,  we  may  possess 
Man's  strength  to  comfort  man's  distress. 

Teach  us  Delight  in  simple  things, 
And  Mirth  that  has  no  bitter  springs; 
Forgiveness  free  of  evil  done, 
And  Love  to  all  men  'neath  the  sun! 

— T 

Land  of  our  Birth,  our  faith,  our  pride, 

For  whose  dear  sake  our  fathers  died; 

O  Motherland,  we  pledge  to  thee, 

Head,  heart,  and  hand  through  the  years  to  bet 


IF 

If  you  can  keep  your  head  when  all  about  you 

Are  losing  theirs  and  blaming  it  on  you, 
If  you  can  trust  yourself  when  all  men  doubt  you, 

But  make  allowance  for  their  doubting  too; 
If  you  can  wait  and  not  be  tired  by  waiting, 

Or  being  lied  about,  don't  deal  in  lies, 
Or  being  hated  don't  give  way  to  hating, 

And  yet  don't  look  too  good,  nor  talk  too  wise: 

If  you  can  dream  —  and  not  make  dreams  your 

master; 
If  you  can  think  —  and  not  make  thoughts 

your  aim, 
If  you  can  meet  with  Triumph  and  Disaster 

And  treat  those  two  impostors  just  the  same ; 
If  you  can  bear  to  hear  the  truth  you've  spoken 

Twisted  by  knaves  to  make  a  trap  for  fools, 
Or  watch  the  things  you  gave  your  life  to,  broken, 
And  stoop  and  build  'em  up  with  worn-out 
tools : 

119 


120  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

If  you  can  make  one  heap  of  all  your  winnings 

And  risk  it  on  one  turn  of  pitch-and-toss, 
And  lose,  and  start  again  at  your  beginnings 

And  never  breathe  a  word  about  your  loss; 
If  you  can  force  your  heart  and  nerve  and  sinew 

To  serve  your  turn  long  after  they  are  gone, 
And  so  hold  on  when  there  is  nothing  in  you 

Except  the  Will  which  says  to  them:  "Hold 
on!" 

If  you  can  talk  with  crowds  and  keep  your 

virtue, 
Or  walk  with  Kings  —  nor  lose  the  common 

touch, 

If  neither  foes  nor  loving  friends  can  hurt  you, 
If  all  men  count  with  you,  but  none  too  much ; 
If  you  can  fill  the  unforgiving  minute 

With  sixty  seconds'  worth  of  distance  run, 
Yours  is  the  Earth  and  everything  that's  in  it, 
And  —  which  is  more  —  you'll  be  a  Man,  my 
son! 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON 

(Western  Version) 

Here  come  I  to  my  own  again, 
Fed,  forgiven  and  known  again, 
Claimed  by  bone  of  my  bone  again 
And  cheered  by  flesh  of  my  flesh. 
The  fatted  calf  is  dressed  for  me, 
But  the  husks  have  greater  zest  for  me, 
I  think  my  pigs  will  be  best  for  me, 
So  I'm  off  to  the  Yards  afresh. 

I  never  was  very  refined,  you  see, 

(And  it  weighs  on  my  brother's  mind,  you  see) 

But  there's  no  reproach  among  swine,  d'you  see, 

For  being  a  bit  of  a  swine. 

So  I'm  off  with  wallet  and  staff  to  eat 

The  bread  that  is  three  parts  chaff  to  wheat, 

But  glory  be!  —  there's  a  laugh  to  it, 

Which  isn't  the  case  when  we  dine. 

My  father  glooms  and  advises  me, 

My  brother  sulks  and  despises  me, 

121 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

And  Mother  catechises  me 
Till  I  want  to  go  out  and  swear. 
And,  in  spite  of  the  butler's  gravity, 
I  know  that  the  servants  have  it  I 
Am  a  monster  of  moral  depravity, 
And  I'm  damned  if  I  think  it's  fair! 

I  wasted  my  substance,  I  know  I  did, 

On  riotous  living,  so  I  did, 

But  there's  nothing  on  record  to  show  I  did 

Worse  than  my  betters  have  done. 

They  talk  of  the  money  I  spent  out  there  — 

They  hint  at  the  pace  that  I  went  out  there  — 

But  they  all  forget  I  was  sent  out  there 

Alone  as  a  rich  man's  son. 

So  I  was  a  mark  for  plunder  at  once, 

And  lost  my  cash  (can  you  wonder?)  at  once, 

But  I  didn't  give  up  and  knock  under  at  once, 

I  worked  in  the  Yards,  for  a  spell, 

Where  I  spent  my  nights  and  my  days  with  hogs. 

And  shared  their  milk  and  maize  with  hogs, 

Till,  I  guess,  I  have  learned  what  pays  with  hogs 

And  —  I  have  that  knowledge  to  sell! 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  123 

So  back  I  go  to  my  job  again, 

Not  so  easy  to  rob  again, 

Or  quite  so  ready  to  sob  again 

On  any  neck  that's  around. 

I'm  leaving,  Pater.     Good-bye  to  you! 

God  bless  you,  Mater!      I'll  write  to  you.  .  .  . 

I  wouldn't  be  impolite  to  you, 

But,  Brother,  you  are  a  hound! 


THE  NECESSITARIAN 

I  know  not  in  Whose  hands  are  laid 

To  empty  upon  earth 
From  unsuspected  ambuscade 

The  very  Urns  of  Mirth; 

Who  bids  the  Heavenly  Lark  arise 
And  cheer  our  solemn  round  — 

The  Jest  beheld  with  streaming  eyes 
And  gro veilings  on  the  ground; 

Who  joins  the  flats  of  Time  and  Chance 

Behind  the  prey  preferred, 
And  thrones  on  Shrieking  Circumstance 

The  Sacredly  Absurd, 

Till  Laughter,  voiceless  through  excess, 
Waves  mute  appeal  and  sore, 

Above  the  midriff's  deep  distress, 
For  breath  to  laugh  once  more. 

No  creed  hath  dared  to  hail  Him  Lord, 
No  raptured  choirs  proclaim, 

124 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  125 

And  Nature's  strenuous  Overword 
Hath  nowhere  breathed  His  Name. 

Yet,  it  must  be,  on  wayside  jape, 

The  selfsame  Power  bestows 
The  selfsame  power  as  went  to  shape 

His  Planet  or  His  Rose. 


THE  JESTER 

There  are  three  degrees  of  bliss 
At  the  foot  of  Allah's  Throne 
And  the  highest  place  is  his 
Who  saves  a  brother's  soul 
At  peril  of  his  own; 
There  is  the  Power  made  known! 

There  are  three  degrees  of  bliss 
In  the  Gardens  of  Paradise, 
And  the  second  place  is  his 
Who  saves  his  brother's  soul 
By  excellent 'advice. 
For  there  the  Glory  lies! 

There  are  three  degrees  of  bliss 
And  three  abodes  of  the  Blest, 
And  the  lowest  place  is  his 
Who  has  saved  a  soul  by  a  jest 
And  a  brother's  soul  in  sport     . 
But  there  do  the  Angels  resort! 

126 


A  SONG  OF  TRAVEL 

Where  s  the  lamp  that  Hero  lit 

Once  to  call  Leander  home? 
Equal  Time  hath  shovelled  it 

'Neath  the  wrack  of  Greece  and  Rome. 
Neither  wait  we  any  more 
That  worn  sail  which  Argo  bore. 

Dust  and  dust  of  ashes  close 

All  the  Vestal  Virgins'  care; 
And  the  oldest  altar  shows 

But  an  older  darkness  there. 
Age-encamped  Oblivion 
Tenteth  every  light  that  shone! 

Yet  shall  we,  for  Suns  that  die, 
Wall  our  wanderings  from  desire? 

Or,  because  the  Moon  is  high 
Scorn  to  use  a  nearer  fire? 

Lest  some  envious  Pharaoh  stir, 

Make  our  lives  our  sepulchre? 

127 


128  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Nay!     Though  Time  with  petty  Fate 

Prison  us  and  Emperors, 
By  our  Arts  do  we  create 

That  which  Time  himself  devours  — 
Such  machines  as  well  may  run 
'Gainst  the  horses  of  the  Sun. 

When  we  would  a  new  abode, 
Space,  our  tyrant  King  no  more 

Lays  the  long  lance  of  the  road 
At  our  feet  and  flees  before, 

Breathless,  ere  we  overwhelm, 

To  submit  a  further  realm! 


THE  TWO-SIDED  MAN 

Much  I  owe  to  the  Land  that  grew  — 
More  to  the  Life  that  fed  — 
But  most  to  Allah  Who  gave  me  two 
Separate  sides  to  my  head. 

Much  I  reflect  on  the  Good  and  the  True 
In  the  Faiths  beneath  the  sun, 
But  most  upon  Allah  who  gave  me  two 
Sides  to  my  head,  not  one. 

Wesley's  following,  Calvin's  flock, 
White  or  yellow  or  bronze, 
Shaman,  Ju-ju  or  Angekok 
Minister,  Mukamuk,  Bonze  — 

Here  is  a  health,  my  brothers,  to  you 
However  your  prayers  are  said, 
And  praised  be  Allah  Who  gave  me  two 
Separate  sides  to  my  head! 

129 


130  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

/  would  go  without  shirt  or  shoe, 
Friend,  tobacco  or  bread, 
Sooner  than  lose  for  a  minute  the  two 
Separate  sides  of  my  head! 


AN  ASTROLOGER'S  SONG 

To  the  Heavens  above  us 

O  look  and  behold 
The  Planets  that  love  us 

All  harnessed  in  gold! 
What  chariots,  what  horses 

Against  us  shall  bide 
While  the  Stars  in  their  courses 

Do  fight  on  our  side? 

All  thought,  all  desires, 

That  are  under  the  sun, 
Are  one  with  their  fires, 

As  we  also  are  one. 
All  matter,  all  spirit, 

All  fashion,  all  frame, 
Receive  and  inherit 

Their  strength  from  the  same. 

Oh,  man  that  deniest 

All  power  save  thine  own 

131 


132  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Their  power  in  the  highest 

Is  mightily  shown. 
Not  less  in  the  lowest 

That  power  is  made  clear. 
(Oh,  man,  if  thou  knowest, 

What  treasure  is  here!) 

Earth  quakes  in  her  throes 

And  we  wonder  for  why. 
But  the  blind  planet  knows 

When  her  ruler  is  nigh; 
And,  attuned  since  Creation 

To  perfect  accord, 
She  thrills  in  her  station 

And  yearns  to  her  Lord. 

The  waters  have  risen, 

The  springs  are  unbound  — 
The  floods  break  their  prison, 

And  ravin  around. 
No  rampart  withstands  'em, 

Their  fury  will  last, 
Till  the  Sign  that  commands  'em 

Sinks  low  or  swings  past. 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  133 

Through  abysses  unproven, 

And  gulfs  beyond  thought, 
Our  portion  is  woven 

Our  burden  is  brought. 
Yet  They  that  prepare  it, 

Whose  Nature  we  share, 
Make  us  who  must  bear  it 

Well  able  to  bear. 

Though  terrors  o'ertake  us 

We'll  not  be  afraid. 
No  Power  can  unmake  us 

Save  that  which  has  made. 
Nor  yet  beyond  reason 

Or  hope  shall  we  fall  — 
All  things  have  their  season, 

And  Mercy  crowns  all! 

Then,  doubt  not,  ye  fearful  — 

The  Eternal  is  King  — 
Up,  heart,  and  be  cheerful, 

And  lustily  sing:  — 
What  chariots,  what  horses, 

Against  us  shall  bide 
While  the  Stars  in  their  courses 

Do  fight  on  our  side? 


"THE  POWER  OF  THE  DOG" 

There  is  sorrow  enough  in  the  natural  way 
From  men  and  women  to  fill  our  day; 
But  when  we  are  certain  of  sorrow  in  store, 
Why  do  we  always  arrange  for  more? 
Brothers  and  Sisters,  I  bid  you  beware 
Of  giving  your  heart  to  a  dog  to  tear. 

Buy  a  pup  and  your  money  will  buy 

Love  unflinching  that  cannot  lie — 

Perfect  passion  and  worship  fed 

By  a  kick  in  the  ribs  or  a  pat  on  the  head. 

Nevertheless  it  is  hardly  fair 

To  risk  your  heart  for  a  dog  to  tear. 

When  the  fourteen  years  which  Nature  permits 
Are  closing  in  asthma,  or  tumour,  or  fits, 
And  the  vet's  unspoken  prescription  runs 
To  lethal  chambers  or  loaded  guns, 
Then  you  will  find  —  ifs  your  own  affair, 
But    .    .    .    you've  given  your  heart  to  a  dog  to  tear. 

134 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  135 

When  the  body  that  lived  at  your  single  will, 
When  the  whimper  of  welcome  is  stilled  (how 

still!) 

When  the  spirit  that  answered  your  every  mood 
Is  gone  —  wherever  it  goes  —  for  good, 
You  will  discover  how  much  you  care, 
And  will  give  your  heart  to  a  dog  to  tear. 

We  ve  sorrow  enough  in  the  natural  way, 
When  it  comes  to  burying  Christian  clay. 
Our  loves  are  not  given,  but  only  lent, 
At  compound  interest  of  cent  per  cent. 
Though  it  is  not  always  the  case,  I  believe, 
That  the  longer  we've  kept  'em,  the  more  do  we 

grieve : 

For,  when  debts  are  payable,  right  or  wrong, 
A  short-time  loan  is  as  bad  as  a  long  — 
So  why  in  —  Heaven  (before  we  are  there) 
Should  we  give  our  hearts  to  a  dog  to  tear? 


THE  RABBI'S  SONG 

If  Thought  can  reach  to  Heaven, 

On  Heaven  let  it  dwell, 
For  fear  thy  Thought  be  given 

Like  power  to  reach  to  Hell. 
For  fear  the  desolation 

And  darkness  of  thy  mind 
Perplex  an  habitation 

Which  thou  hast  left  behind. 

Let  nothing  linger  after  — 

No  whimpering  ghost  remain, 
In  wall,  or  beam,  or  rafter, 

Of  any  hate  or  pain. 
Cleanse  and  call  home  thy  spirit, 

Deny  her  leave  to  cast, 
On  aught  thy  heirs  inherit, 

The  shadow  of  her  past. 

For  think,  in  all  thy  sadness, 
What  road  our  griefs  may  take; 

136 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  137 

Whose  brain  reflect  our  madness, 

Or  whom  our  terrors  shake. 
For  think,  lest  any  languish 

By  cause  of  thy  distress  — 
The  arrows  of  our  anguish 

Fly  farther  than  we  guess. 

Our  lives,  our  tears,  as  water, 

Are  spilled  upon  the  ground; 
God  giveth  no  man  quarter, 

Yet  God  a  means  hath  found, 
Though  faith  and  hope  have  vanished, 

And  even  love  grows  dim  — 
A  means  whereby  His  banished 

Be  not  expelled  from  Him. 


THE  BEE  BOY'S  SONG 

Bees!     Bees!    Hark  to  your  bees! 

"Hide  from  your  neighbours  as  much  as  you 

please, 

But  all  that  has  happened,  to  us  you  must  telly 
Or  else  we  will  give  you  no  honey  to  sell!" 

A  maiden  in  her  glory, 

Upon  her  wedding-day, 
Must  tell  her  Bees  the  story, 
Or  else  they'll  fly  away. 

Fly  away  —  die  away  — 

Dwindle  down  and  leave  you! 
But  if  you  don't  deceive  your  Bees, 
Your  Bees  will  not  deceive  you. 

Marriage,  birth  or  buryin', 

News  across  the  seas, 
All  you're  sad  or  merry  in, 

You  must  tell  the  Bees. 

138 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  139 

Tell  'em  coming  in  an'  out, 
Where  the  Fanners  fan, 

'Cause  the  Bees  are  just  about 
As  curious  as  a  man! 

Don't  you  wait  where  trees  are, 

When  the  lightnings  play, 
Nor  don't  you  hate  where  .Bees  are, 
Or  else  they'll  pine  away. 

Pine  away  —  dwine  away  — 
Anything  to  leave  you! 
But  if  you  never  grieve  your  Bees, 
Your  Bees  '11  never  grieve  you. 


THE  RETURN  OF  THE  CHILDREN 

Neither  the  harps  nor  the  crowns  amused,  nor 

the  cherubs'  dove-winged  races  — 
Holding  hands  forlornly  the  Children  wandered 

beneath  the  Dome, 
Plucking  the  splendid  robes  of  the  passers  by, 

and  with  pitiful  faces 
Begging  what  Princes  and  Powers  refused:  — 

"Ah,  please  will  you  let  us  go  home?" 

Over  the  jewelled  floor,  nigh  weeping,  ran  to 
them  Mary  the  Mother, 

Kneeled  and  caressed  and  made  promise  with  kis- 
ses, and  drew  them  along  to  the  gateway — 

Yea,  the  all-iron  unbribeable  Door  which  Peter 
must  guard  and  none  other. 

Straightway  She  took  the  Keys  from  his  keeping, 
and  opened  and  freed  them  straightway. 

Then,  to  Her  Son,  Who  had  seen  and  smiled,  She 
said:  "On  the  night  that  I  bore  Thee, 

140 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  141 

What  didst  Thou  care  for  a  love  beyond  mine  or 
a  heaven  that  was  not  my  arm? 

Didst  Thou  push  from  the  nipple,  O  Child,  to 
hear  the  angels  adore  Thee? 

When  we  two  lay  in  the  breath  of  the  kine?" 
And  He  said:  —  "Thou  hast  done  no  harm." 

So  through  the  Void  the  Children  ran  homeward 

merrily  hand  in  hand, 
Looking  neither  to  left  nor  right  where  the 

breathless  Heavens  stood  still. 
And  the  Guards  of  the  Void  resheathed  their 

swords,  for  they  heard  the  Command: 
"Shall  I  that  have  suffered  the  children  to  come 

to  Me  hold  them  against  their  will?" 


OLD  MOTHER  LAIDINWOOL 

"  Old  Mother  Laidinwool  had  nigh  twelve  months 

been  dead. 
She  heard  the  hops  was  doing  well  an'  so  popped 

up  her  head," 
For  she  said;  —  "The  lads  I've  hopped  with 

when  I  was  young  and  fair, 
They're  bound  to  be  at  hopping  and  I'm  bound 

to  meet  'em  there!" 

Let  me  up  and  go 

Bade  to  the  work  I  know,  Lord! 

Back  to  the  work  I  know  Lord! 

For  if  s  dark  where  I  lie  down  My  Lord! 

An9  ifs  dark  where  I  lie  down! 

Old  Mother  Laidinwool,  she  give  her  bones  a 

shake, 
An'  trotted  down  the  churchyard  path  as  fast  as 

she  could  make. 

142 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  143 

She  met  the  Parson  walking,  but  she  says  to 

him,  says  she;  — 
"  Oh  don't  let  no  one  trouble  for  a  poor  old  ghost 

like  me!" 


'Twas  all  a  warm  September  an'  the  hops  had 

flourished  grand, 
She  saw  the  folks  get  into  'em  with  stockin's 

on  their  hands; 
An'  none  of  'em  was  foreigners  but  all  which  she 

had  known, 
And  old  Mother  Laidinwool  she  blessed  'em 

every  one. 


She  saw  her  daughters  picking  an'  their  childern 

them  beside, 
An'  she  moved  among  the  babies  an'  she  stilled 

'em  when  they  cried. 
She  saw  their  clothes  was  bought  not  begged,  an' 

they  was  clean  an'  fat, 
An'  Old  Mother  Laidinwool  she  thanked  the 

Lord  for  that. 


144  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Old  Mother  Laidinwool  she  waited  on  all  day 
Until  it  come  too  dark  to  see  an'  people  went 

away  — 
Until  it  come  too  dark  to  see  an'  lights  began 

to  show, 
An'  old  Mother  Laidinwool  she  hadn't  where  to 

go- 
Old  Mother  Laidinwool  she  give  her  bones  a 

shake, 
An'  trotted  back  to  churchyard-mould  as  fast  as 

she  could  make. 
She  went  where  she  was  bidden  to  an'  there  laid 

down  her  ghost,     .     .     . 
An'  the  Lord  have  mercy  on  you  in  the  Day  you 

need  it  most! 

Let  me  in  again, 

Out  of  the  wet  an9  rain,  Lord! 

Out  of  the  dark  an9  rain,  Lord! 

For  it's  best  as  you  shall  say,  My  Lord! 

An9  it  9s  best  as  you  shall  say!" 


THE  LOOKING-GLASS 

(A  Country  Dance) 

Queen  Bess  was  Harry's  daughter.      Stand  for- 
ward partners  all! 
In  ruff  and  stomacher  and  gown 
She  danced  King  Philip  down-a  down, 
And  left  her  shoe  to  show  9twas  true  — 

(The  very  tune  Tm  playing  you) 
In  Norgem  at  Brickwall! 

The  Queen  was  in  her  chamber,  and  she  was 
middling  old, 

Her  petticoat  was  satin,  and  her  stomacher  was 
gold. 

Backwards  and  forwards  and  sideways  did  she 
pass, 

Making  up  her  mind  to  face  the  cruel  looking- 
glass. 

The  cruel  looking-glass  that  will  never  show  a 
lass 

As  comely  or  as  kindly  or  as  young  as  what  she 
was! 

145 


146  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Queen  Bess  was  Harry's  daughter.     Now  hand 
your  partners  all! 

The  Queen  was  in  her  chamber,  a-combing  of 

her  hair. 
There  came  Queen  Mary's  spirit  and  It  stood 

behind  her  chair, 
Singing  "  Backwards  and  forwards  and  sideways 

may  you  pass, 
But  I  will  stand  behind  you  till  you  face  the 

looking-glass. 
The  cruel  looking-glass  that  will  never  show  a 

lass 
As  lovely  or  unlucky  or  as  lonely  as  I  was !" 


Queen  Bess  was  Harry's  daughter.      Now  turn 
your  partners  all! 

The  Queen  was  in  her  chamber,  a-weeping  very 

sore, 
There    came    Lord    Leicester's    spirit  and   It 

scratched  upon  the  door, 
Singing  "Backwards  and  forwards  and  sideways 

may  you  pass, 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  147 

But  I  will  walk  beside  you  till  you  face  the 

looking-glass. 
The  cruel  looking-glass  that  will  never  show  a 

lass, 
As  hard  and  unforgiving  or  as  wicked  as  you 

was!" 

Queen  Bess  was  Harry's  daughter.     Now  kiss 

your  partners  all! 
The  Queen  was  in  her  chamber,  her  sins  were  on 

her  head. 
She  looked  the  spirits  up  and  down  and  statelily 

she  said:  — 
"Backwards  and  forwards  and  sideways  though 

I've  been, 
Yet  I  am  Harry's  daughter  and  I  am  England's 

Queen!" 
And  she  faced  the  looking-glass  (and  whatever 

else  there  was) 
And  she  saw  her  day  was  over  and  she  saw  her 

beauty  pass 
In  the  cruel  looking-glass,  that  can  always  hurt 

a  lass 
More  hard  than  any  ghost  there  is  or  any  man 

there  was! 


THE  QUEEN'S  MEN 

Valour  and  Innocence 

Have  latterly  gone  hence 

To  certain  death  by  certain  shame  attended. 

Envy  —  ah!  even  to  tears!  — 

The  fortune  of  their  years 

Which,  though  so  few,  yet  so  divinely  ended. 

Scarce  had  they  lifted  up 

Life's  full  and  fiery  cup, 

Than  they  had  set  it  down  untouched  before 

them. 

Before  their  day  arose 
They  beckoned  it  to  close  — 
Close  in  confusion  and  destruction  o'er  them. 

They  did  not  stay  to  ask 
What  prize  should  crown  their  task, 
Well  sure  that  prize  was  such  as  no  man  strives 
for; 

148 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  149 

But  passed  into  eclipse 
Her  kiss  upon  their  lips  — 
Even  Belphoebe's,  whom  they  gave  their  lives 
for! 


THE  CITY  OF  SLEEP 

Over  the  edge  of  the  purple  down, 

Where  the  single  lamplight  gleams, 
Know  ye  the  road  to  the  Merciful  Town 

That  is  hard  by  the  Sea  of  Dreams  — 
Where  the  poor  may  lay  their  wrongs  away, 

And  the  sick  may  forget  to  weep? 
But  we  —  pity  us !     Oh,  pity  us ! 

We  wakeful;  ah,  pity  us!  — 
We  must  go  back  with  Policeman  Day  — 

Back  from  the  City  of  Sleep! 

Weary  they  turn  from  the  scroll  and  crown, 

Fetter  and  prayer  and  plough  — 
They  that  go  up  to  the  Merciful  Town, 

For  her  gates  are  closing  now. 
It  is  their  right  in  the  Baths  of  Night 

Body  and  soul  to  steep, 
But  we  —  pity  us!  ah,  pity  us! 

We  wakeful;  oh,  pity  us!  — 
We  must  go  back  with  Policeman  Day  — 

Back  from  the  City  of  Sleep ! 

150 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  151 

Over  the  edge  of  the  purple  down, 

Ere  the  tender  dreams  begin, 
Look  —  we  may  look  —  at  the  Merciful  Town, 

But  we  may  not  enter  in! 
Outcasts  all,  from  her  guarded  wall 

Back  to  our  watch  we  creep: 
We  —  pity  us !  ah,  pity  us ! 

We  wakeful;  oh,  pity  us!  — 
We  that  go  back  with  Policeman  Day  — 

Back  from  the  City  of  Sleep! 


THE  WIDOWER 

For  a  season  there  must  be  pain  — 
For  a  little,  little  space 
I  shall  lose  the  sight  of  her  face, 
Take  back  the  old  life  again 
While  She  is  at  rest  in  her  place. 

For  a  season  this  pain  must  endure, 
For  a  little,  little  while 
I  shall  sigh  more  often  than  smile 
Till  Time  shall  work  me  a  cure, 
And  the  pitiful  days  beguile. 

For  that  season  we  must  be  apart, 
For  a  little  length  of  years, 
Till  my  life's  last  hour  nears, 
And,  above  the  beat  of  my  heart, 
I  hear  Her  voice  in  my  ears. 

But  I  shall  not  understand  — 
Being  set  on  some  later  love, 

152 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  153 

Shall  not  know  her  for  whom  I  strove, 
Till  she  reach  me  forth  her  hand 
Saying  "Who  but  I  have  the  right?" 
And  out  of  a  troubled  night 
Shall  draw  me  safe  to  the  land. 


THE  PRAYER  OF  MIRIAM  COHEN 

From  the  wheel  and  the  drift  of  Things 
Deliver  us,  Good  Lord, 
And  we  will  face  the  wrath  of  Kings 
The  faggot  and  the  sword! 

Lay  not  Thy  Works  before  our  eyes 
Nor  vex  us  with  Thy  Wars 
Lest  we  should  feel  the  straining  skies 
O'ertrod  by  trampling  stars. 

Hold  us  secure  behind  the  gates 

Of  saving  flesh  and  bone, 

Lest  we  should  dream  what  dream  awaits 

The  soul  escaped  alone. 

Thy  Path,  Thy  Purposes  conceal 
From  our  beleaguered  realm, 
Lest  any  shattering  whisper  steal 
Upon  us  and  o'erwhelm. 

154 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  155 

A  veil  twixt  us  and  Thee,  Good  Lord, 
A  veil  twixt  us  and  Thee, 
Lest  we  should  hear  too  clear,  too  clear, 
And  unto  madness  see! 


GOW'S  WATCH 

ACT  II.     SCENE  2. 

The  pavilion  in  the  Gardens.    Enter  Ferdinand 
and  the  King 

Ferdinand.     Your  tiercel's  too  long  at  hack,  Sir. 

He's  no  eyass 
But  a  passage-hawk  that  footed  ere  we  caught 

him, 

Dangerously  free  o'  the  air.  Faith  were  he  mine 
(As  mine's  the  glove  he  binds  to  for  his  tirings) 
I'd  fly  him  with  a  make-hawk.  He's  in  yarak 
Plumed  to  the  very  point.  So  manned  so 

weathered ! 

Give  him  the  firmament  God  made  him  for 
And  what  shall  take  the  air  of  him? 


The  King.     A  young  wing  yet 

Bold  —  overbold  on  the  perch  but,  think  you, 

Ferdinand, 
He  can  endure  the  tall   skies  yonder?     Cozen 

156 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  157 

Advantage  out  of  the  teeth  of  the  hurricane? 
Choose  his  own  mate  against  the  lammer-geier? 
Ride  out  a  night-long  tempest,  hold  his  pitch 
Between  the  lightning  and  the  cloud  it  leaps 

from, 
Never  too  pressed  to  kill? 

Ferdinand.     I'll  answer  for  him. 

Bating   all   parable,    I   know   the   Prince. 

There's  a  bleak  devil  in  the  young,  my  Lord, 

God  put  it  there  to  save  'em  from  their  elders 

And  break  their  father's  heart,  but  bear  them 
scatheless 

Through  mire  and  thorns  and  blood  if  need  be. 
Think 

What  our  prime  saw!  Such  glory,  such  achieve- 
ments 

As  now  our  children  wondering  at,  examine 

Themselves  to  see  if  they  shall  hardly  equal. 

But  what  cared  we  while  we  wrought  the  won- 
ders? Nothing! 

The  rampant  deed  contented 

The  King.  Little  enough,  God  knows!  But 
afterwards?  After  — 


158  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

There   comes   the    reckoning.     I    would    save 
him  that. 

Ferdinand.     Save  him  dry  scars  that   ache   of 

winter-nights, 

Worn  out  self-pity  and  as  much  of  knowledge 
As    makes    old    men    fear    judgment?     Then 

loose  him  —  loose  him 

A'  God's  name  loose  him  to  adventure  early! 
And   trust  some  random  pike,  or  half-backed 

horse, 
Besides  what's  caught  in  Italy,  to  save  him. 

The  King.     I    know.      I     know.      And     yet. 
...     What    stirs    in    the     garden? 

Enter  Gow  and  a  Gardener  bearing  the  Prince9 s 

body 

Ferdinand.      (Gods   give   me   patience!)     Gow 

and  a  gardener 
Bearing    some    load    along    in    the    dusk    to 

the  dunghill. 
Nay  —  a  dead  branch  —     But  as  I  said,  the 

Prince 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  159 

The  King.  They've  set  it  down.  Strange  that 
they  work  so  late. 

Gow  (setting  down  the  body).  Heark,  you  un- 
sanctified  fool  while  I  set  out  our  story. 
We  found  it,  this  side  the  North  park  wall 
which  it  had  climbed  to  pluck  nectarines 
from  the  alley.  Heark  again!  There 
was  a  nectarine  in  its  hand  when  we 
found  it,  and  the  naughty  brick  that 
slipped  from  the  coping  beneath  its  foot 
and  so  caused  its  death,  lies  now  under 
the  wall  for  the  King  to  see. 

The  King  (above).  The  King  to  see!  Why 
should  he?  Who's  the  man? 

Gow.  That  is  your  tale.  Swerve  from  it  by 
so  much  as  the  breadth  of  my  dagger 
and  here's  your  instant  reward.  You 
heard  not,  saw  not,  and  by  the  Horns  of 
ninefold-cuckolded  Jupiter  you  thought 
not  nor  dreamed  not  anything  more  or 
other! 


160  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

The  King.  Ninefold-cuckolded  Jupiter.  That's 
a  rare  oath!  Shall  we  look  closer? 

Ferdinand.  Not  yet,  my  Lord!  (I  cannot  hear 
him  breathe.) 

Gardener.  The  North  park  wall?  It  was  so. 
Plucking  nectarines.  It  shall  be.  But 
how  shall  I  say  if  any  ask  why  our 
Lady  the  Queen 

Gow  (stabs  him).  Thus!  Hie  after  the  Prince 
and  tell  him  y'are  the  first  fruits  of  his 
nectarine  tree.  Bleed  there  behind  the 
laurels. 

The  King.  Why  did  Gow  buffet  the  clown? 
What  said  he?  I'll  go  look. 

Ferdinand  (above).  Save  yourself!  It  is  the 
King! 

Enter  the  King  and  Ferdinand  to  Gow 

Gow.  God    save   you!      This    was    the 

Prince ! 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  161 

The  King.     The  Prince!     Not  a  dead  branch? 

(Uncovers  the  face.) 
My  flesh  and  blood!    My   son!  my  son!   my 

son! 

Ferdinand  (to  Gow).  I  had  feared  something  of 
this.  And  that  fool  yonder? 

Gow.     Dead,   or   as   good.     He  cannot  speak. 
Ferdinand.     Better  so. 

The  King.  "Loosed  to  adventure  early!"  Tell 
the  tale. 

Gow.  Saddest  truth  alack!  I  came  upon  him 
not  a  half  hour  since,  fallen  from  the 
North  park  wall  over  against  the  Deer- 
park  side  —  dead  —  dead !  —  a  nectarine 
in  his  hand  that  the  dear  lad  must  have 
climbed  for,  and  plucked  the  very  instant, 
look  you,  that  a  brick  slipped  on  the 
coping.  'Tis  there  now.  So  I  lifted 
him,  but  his  neck  was  as  you  see  —  and 
already  cold. 


162  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

The  King.     Oh,  very  cold.     But  why  should  he 
have  troubled  to  climb?     He  was  free  of 
all   the  fruit   in   my   garden  God   knows! 
.     .     .     What,  Gow? 

Gow.     Surely,  God  knows! 

The  King.  A  lad's  trick.  But  I  love  him  the 
better  for  it.  ...  True,  he's  past 
loving.  .  .  .  And  now  we  must  tell  our 
Queen.  What  a  coil  at  a  day's  end! 
She'll  grieve  for  him.  Not  as  I  shall,  Fer- 
dinand, but  as  youth  for  youth.  They 
were  much  of  the  same  age.  Playmate  for 
playmate.  See,  he  wears  her  colours.  That 
is  the  knot  she  gave'him  last  —  last.  .  .  . 
Oh  God!  When  was  yesterday? 

Ferdinand.     Come    in!     Come    in,    my   Lord. 
There's  a  dew  falling. 

The  King.     He'll    take  no  harm  of    it.      I'll 

follow  presently. 

He's  all  his  mother's  now  and  none  of  mine — 
Her   very   face   on   the   bride-pillow.      Yet    I 

tricked  her, 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  163 

But  that  was  later  —  and  she  never  guessed. 
I    do    not   think  he    sinned   much  —  he's    too 

young  — 
Much  the  same  age  as  my  Queen.     God  must 

not  judge  him 

Too  hardly  for  such  slips  as  youth  may  fall  in. 
But  I'll  entreat  that  Throne. 

(Prays  by  the  body.) 

Gow.  The  Heavens  hold  up  still.  Earth  opens 
not  and  this  dew's  mere  water.  What  shall 
a  man  think  of  it  all?  (To  Gardener.}  Not 
dead  yet,  sirrah?  I  bade  you  follow  the 
Prince.  Despatch! 

Gardener.  Some  kind  soul  pluck  out  the  dag- 
ger. Why  did  you  slay  me?  I'd  done  no 
wrong.  I'd  ha'  kept  it  secret  till  my  dying 
day.  But  not  now  —  not  now !  I'm  dying. 
The  Prince  fell  from  the  Queen's  chamber 
window.  I  saw  it  in  the  nut  alley.  He 
was 

Ferdinand.  But  what  made  you  in  the  nut 
alley  at  that  hour? 


164  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Gardener.  No  wrong.  No  more  than  another 
man's  wife.  Jocasta  of  the  still-room. 
She'd  kissed  me  good-night  too;  but  that's 
over  with  the  rest  .  .  .  I've  stumbled 
on  the  Prince's  beastly  loves,  and  I  pay  for 
all.  Let  me  pass! 

Gow.  Count  it  your  fortune,  honest  man. 
You  would  have  revealed  it  to  your 
woman  at  the  next  meeting.  You  flesh- 
mongers  are  all  one  feather.  (Plucks 
out  the  dagger.) 

Go  in  peace  and  lay  your  death  to  For- 
tune's door. 
He's  sped  — thank  Fortune! 

Ferdinand.     Who  knows  not  Fortune,  glutted  on 

easy  thrones, 

Stealing  from  feasts   as   rare   to    coney-catch 
Privily  in  the  hedgerows  for  a  clown, 
With  that  same  cruel  lustful  hand   and  eye, 
Those  nails  and  wedges,  that  one  hammer  and 

lead, 

And  the  very  gerb  of  long-stored  lightning  loosed. 
Yesterday  'gainst  some  King. 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  165 

The  King.      I  have  pursued  with  prayers  where 

my  heart  warns  me 
My  soul  shall  overtake  — 

Enter  the  Queen 

The  King.      Look  not!     Wait  till  I   tell  you 

dearest.     .     .    .     Air!     .... 
' 'Loosed  to  adventure  early" 
.     .     .     .     I  go  late.     (Dies.) 

Gow.  So!  God  hath  cut  off  the  Prince  in  his 
pleasures.  Gow,  to  save  the  King,  hath 
silenced  one  poor  fool  who  knew  how  it 
befell,  and  now  the  King's  dead,  needs  only 
that  the  Queen  should  kill  Gow  and  all's 
safe  for  her  this  side  o'  the  Judgment 
.  .  .  Senor  Ferdinand,  the  wind's  east- 
erly. I'm  for  the  road. 

Ferdinand.  My  horse  is  at  the  gate.  God 
speed  you.  Whither? 

Gow.  To  the  Duke,  if  the  Queen  does  not  lay 
hands  on  me  before.  However  it  goes,  I 
charge  you  bear  witness,  Senor  Ferdinand, 
I  served  the  old  King  faithfully.  To  the 
death,  Senor  Ferdinand  —  to  the  death! 


THE  WISHING  CAPS 

Life's  all  getting  and  giving, 
I've  only  myself  to  give. 
What  shall  I  do  for  a  living? 
I've  only  one  life  to  live. 
End  it?     I'll  not  find  another. 
Spend  it?     But  how  shall  I  best? 
Sure  the  wise  plan  is  to  live  like  a  man 
And  Luck  may  look  after  the  rest! 
Largesse!    Largesse,  Fortune! 
Give  or  hold  at  your  will. 
If  I've  no  care  for  Fortune 
Fortune  must  follow  me  still. 

Bad  Luck,  she  is  never  a  lady 

But  the  commonest  wench  on  the  street, 

Shuffling,  shabby  and  shady, 

Shameless  to  pass  or  meet. 

Walk  with  her  once  —  it's  a  weakness! 

Talk  to  her  twice  —  it's  a  crime! 

166 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  167 

Thrust  her  away  when  she  gives  you  "good  day  " 

And  the  besom  won't  board  you  next  time. 

Largesse!    Largesse,  Fortune! 

What  is  Your  Ladyship's  mood? 

If  I've  no  care  for  Fortune, 

My  Fortune  is  bound  to  be  good! 

Good  Luck  she  is  never  a  lady 

But  the  cursedest  quean  alive! 

Tricksey,  wincing  and  jady, 

Kittle  to  lead  or  drive. 

Greet  her  —  she's  hailing  a  stranger! 

Meet  her  —  she's  busking  to  leave. 

Let  her  alone  for  a  shrew  to  the  bone, 

And  the  hussy  comes  plucking  your  sleeve! 

Largesse!    Largesse,  Fortune! 

I'll  neither  follow  nor  flee. 

If  I  don't  run  after  Fortune 

Fortune  must  run  after  me! 


"BY  THE  HOOF  OF  THE  WILD  GOAT" 

By  the  Hoof  of  the  Wild  Goat  uptossed 
From  the  cliff  where  she  lay  in  the  Sun 
Fell  the  Stone 

To  the  Tarn  where  the  daylight  is  lost 
So  she  fell  from  the  light  of  the  Sun, 
And  alone! 


Now  the  fall  was  ordained  from  the  first 

With  the  Goat  and  the  Cliff  and  the  Tarn 

But  the  Stone 

Knows  only  her  life  is  accursed 

As  she  sinks  from  the  light  of  the  Sun 

And  alone! 


Oh  Thou  Who  has  builded  the  World, 
Oh  Thou  Who  has  lighted  the  Sun, 
Oh  Thou  WTio  has  darkened  the  Tarn, 
Judge  Thou 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  169 

The  sin  of  the  Stone  that  was  hurled 
By  the  goat  from  the  light  of  the  Sun, 
As  she  sinks  in  the  mire  of  the  Tarn, 
Even  now  —  even  now  —  even  now ! 


r  CHAPTER  HEADINGS 
"BEAST  A*ND  MAN  IN  INDIA" 

They  killed  a  child  to  please  the  Gods 
In  earth's  young  penitence 
And  I  have  bled  in  that  Babe's  stead 
Because  of  innocence.  • 

I  bear  the  sins  of  sinful  men 

That  have  no  sin  of  my  own, 

They  drive  me  forth  to  Heaven's  wrath 

Unpastured  and  alone. 

I  am  the  meat  of  sacrifice 

The  ransom  of  man's  guilt 

For  they  give  my  life  to  the  altar-knife 

Wherever  shrine  is  built. 

The  Goat. 

Between  tne  waving  tufts  of  jungle-grass, 
Up  from  the  river  as  the  twilight  falls, 
Across  the  dust-beclouded  plain  they  pass 
On  to  the  village  walls. 

170 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  171 

Great  is  the  sword  and  mighty  is  the  pen 

But    greater    far    the    labouring    ploughman's 

blade, 

For  on  its  oxen  and  its  husbandmen 
An  Empire's  strength  is  laid. 

The  Oxen. 


The  torn  Doufo_s  trailing  o'er  the  tusks  aslant, 
The  saplings  reeling  in  the  path  he  trod, 
Declare  his  might  —  our  lord  the  Elephant 
Chief  of  the  ways  of  God. 


The  black  bulk  heaving  where  the  oxen  pant, 
The  bowed  head  toiling  where  the  guns  careen, 
Declare  our  might  —  our  slave  the  Elephant 
And  servant  of  the  Queen. 

The  Elephant. 


Dark  children  of  the  mere  and  marsh 
Wallow  and  waste  and  lea, 
Outcaste  they  wait  at  the  village  gate 
With  folk  of  low  degree. 


172  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Their  pasture  is  in  no  man's  land, 
Their  food  the  cattle's  scorn, 
Their  rest  is  mire  and  their  desire 
The  thicket  and  the  thorn. 


But  woe  to  those  who  break  their  sleep, 
And  woe  to  those  who  dare 
To  rouse  the  herd-bull  from  his  keep 
The  wild  boar  from  his  lair! 

Pigs  and  Buffaloes. 


The  beasts  are  very  wise, 
Their  mouths  are  clean  of  lies, 
They  talk  one  to  the  other, 
Bullock  to  bullock's  brother 
Resting  after  their  labours, 
Each  in  stall  with  his  neighbours. 
But  man  with  goad  and  whip, 
Breaks  up  their  fellowship, 
Shouts  in  their  silky  ears 
Filling  their  souls  with  fears, 
When  he  has  ploughed  the  land, 
He  says;  —  "They  understand." 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  173 


But  the  beasts  in  stall  together 
Freed  from  the  yoke  and  tether 
Say  as  the  torn  flanks  smoke  — 
"Nay,  'twas  the  whip  that  spoke/ 


LIFE'S  HANDICAP 

The  doors  were  wide,  the  story  saith, 
Out  of  the  night  came  the  patient  wraith 
He  might  not  speak  and  he  could  not  stir 
A  hair  of  the  Baron's  minniver. 
Speechless  and  strengthless  a  shadow  thin 
He  roved  the  castle  to  find  his  kin. 
And  oh!  'twas  a  piteous  sight  to  see 
The  dumb  ghost  follow  his  enemy! 

The  Return  of  Imray. 


174  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Before  my  spring  I  garnered  autumn's   gain, 
Out  of  her  time  my  field  was  white  with  grain, 
The  year  gave  up  her  secrets,  to  my  woe. 
Forced  and  deflowered  each  sick  season  lay 
In  mystery  of  increase  and  decay 
I  saw  the  sunset  ere  men  see  the  day 
Who  am  too  wise  in  all  I  should  not  know. 
Without  Benefit  of  Clergy. 


MANY  INVENTIONS 

And  if  ye  doubt  the  tale  I  tell 
Steer  through  the  South  Pacific  swell 
Go  where  the  branching  coral  hives 
Unending  strife  of  endless  lives, 
Where,  leagued  about  the  'wildered  boat 
The  rainbow  jellies  fill  and  float 
And  lilting  where  the  laver  lingers 
The  starfish  trips  on  all  her  fingers; 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  175 

Where  'neath  his  myriad  spines  ashock 
The  sea-egg  ripples  down  the  rock, 
An  orange  wonder  daily  guessed 
From  darkness  where  the  cuttles  rest 
Moored  o'er  the  darker  deeps  that  hide 
The  blind  white  sea-snake  and  his  bride 
Who,  drowsing,  nose  the  long-lost  ships 
Let  down  through  darkness  to  their  lips. 

A  Matter  of  Fact. 

There's  a  convict  more  in  the  Central  Jail 

Behind  the  old  mud  wall; 

There's  a  lifter  less  on  the  Border  trail 

And  the  Queen's  peace  over  all, 

Dear  boys, 

The  Queen's  peace  over  all! 

For  we  must  bear  our  leader's  blame, 

On  us  the  shame  will  fall, 

If  we  lift  our  hand  from  a  fettered  land 

And  the  Queen's  peace  over  all 

Dear  boys, 

The  Queen's  peace  over  all! 

The  Lost  Legion. 


176  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

'Less  you  want  your  toes  trod  off  you'd  better 

get  back  at  once, 

For  the  bullocks  are  walking  two  by  two, 
The  byles  are  walking  two  by  two, 
And  the  elephants  bring  the  guns. 
Ho!  Yuss! 
Great  —  big  —  long  —  black  —  forty -pounder 

guns 

Jiggery-jolty  to  and  fro, 
Each  as  big  as  a  launch  in  tow  — 
Blind  —  dumb  —  broad-breeched  —  beggars    o' 

battering-guns. 

My  Lord  the  Elephant. 

All  the  world  over,  nursing  their  scars, 
Sit  the  old  fighting-men  broke  in  the  wars  — 
Sit  the  old  fighting-men,  surly  and  grim, 
Mocking  the  lilt  of  the  conquerors'  hymn. 

Dust  of  the  battle  o'erwhelmed  them  and  hid. 
Fame  never  found  them  for  aught  that  they  did. 
Wounded  and  spent  to  the  lazar  they  drew, 
Lining    the     road     where     the     Legions     roll 
through. 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  177 

Sons  of  the  Laurel  who  press  to  your  meed, 
(Worthy  God's  pity  most  —  ye  who  succeed!) 
Ere  you  go  triumphing,  crowned,  to  the  stars, 
Pity  poor  fighting  men,  broke  in  the  wars! 

Collected. 


KIM 

Unto  whose  use  the  pregnant  suns  are  poised 
With  idiot  moons  and  stars  retracting  stars 
Creep   thou   between  —  thy   coming's   all   un- 

noised 

Heaven  hath  her  high,  as  Earth  her  Laser  wars. 
Heir  to  these  tumults,  this  affright,  that  fray 
(By  Adam's,  father's,  own,  sin  bound  alway) 
Peer  up,  draw  out  thy  horoscope  and  say 
Which  planet  mends  thy  threadbare  fate,  or 

mars. 


SONG  OF  THE  RED  WAR-BOAT 

(683   A.D.) 

Shove  off  from  the  wharf -edge!     Steady! 
Watch  for  a  smooth!     Give  way! 
If  she  feels  the  lop  already 
She'll  stand  on  her  head  in  the  bay. 
It's  ebb  —  it's  dusk  —  it's  blowing 
The  shoals  are  a  mile  of  white, 
But  (snatch  her  along!)  we're  going 
To  find  our  master  to-night. 

For  we  hold  that  in  all  disaster 
Of  shipwreck,  storm,  or  sword, 
A  Man  must  stand  by  his  Master 
When  once  he  has  pledged  his  word. 

Raging  seas  have  we  rowed  in 
But  we  seldom  saw  them  thus, 
Our  master  is  angry  with  Odin  — 
Odin  is  angry  with  us! 
Heavy  odds  have  we  taken, 
But  never  before  such  odds. 

178 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  179 

The  Gods  know  they  are  forsaken, 
We  must  risk  the  wrath  of  the  Gods! 

Over  the  crest  she  flies  from, 
Into  its  hollow  she  drops, 
Cringes  and  clears  her  eyes  from 
The  wind-torn  breaker-tops, 
Ere  out  on  the  shrieking  shoulder 
Of  a  hill-high  surge  she  drives. 
Meet  her!     Meet  her  and  hold  her! 
Pull  for  your  scoundrel  lives! 

The  thunders  bellow  and  clamour 
The  harm  that  they  mean  to  do! 
There  goes  Thor's  own  Hammer 
Cracking  the  dark  in  two! 
Close!     But  the  blow  has  missed  her, 
Here  comes  the  wind  of  the  blow! 
Row  or  the  squall  '11  twist  her 
Broadside  on  to  it !  —  Row! 

Heark  'ee,  Thor  of  the  Thunder, 
We  are  not  here  for  a  jest  — 
For  wager,  warfare  or  plunder, 
Or  to  put  your  power  to  test. 


180  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

This  work  is  none  of  our  wishing 
We  would  house  at  home  if  we  might  — 
But  our  master  is  wrecked  out  fishing. 
We  go  to  find  him  to-night. 

For  we  hold  that  in  all  disaster  — 
As  the  Gods  Themselves  have  said  — 
A  Man  must  stand  by  his  Master 
Till  one  of  the  two  is  dead. 

That  is  our  way  of  thinking, 

Now  you  can  do  as  you  will. 

While  we  try  to  save  her  from  sinking, 

And  hold  her  head  to  it  still. 

Bale  her  and  keep  her  moving, 

Or  she'll  break  her  back  in  the  trough.  . 

Who  said  the  weather's  improving, 

Or  the  swells  are  taking  off? 

Sodden,  and  chafed  and  aching, 

Gone  in  the  loins  and  knees  — 

No  matter  —  the  day  is  breaking, 

And  there's  far  less  weight  to  the  seas! 

Up  mast,  and  finish  baling  — 

In  oars,  and  out  with  the  mead  — 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  181 

The  rest  will  be  two-reef  sailing.     .     .     . 
That  was  a  night  indeed! 

But  we  hold  that  in  all  disaster 
(And  faith,  we  have  found  it  true!) 
If  only  you  stand  by  your  master^ 
The  Gods  will  stand  by  you! 


BLUE  ROSES 

Roses  red  and  roses  white 
Plucked  I  for  my  love's  delight. 
She  would  none  of  all  my  posies  — 
Bade  me  gather  her  blue  roses. 

Half  the  world  I  wandered  through, 
Seeking  where  such  flowers  grew 
Half  the  world  unto  my  quest 

Answered  me  with  laugh  and  jest. 

* 

Home  I  came  at  wintertide 
But  my  silly  love  had  died 
Seeking  with  her  latest  breath 
Roses  from  the  arms  of  Death. 

It  may  be  beyond  the  grave 
She  shall  find  what  she  would  have. 
Mine  was  but  an  idle  quest  — 
Roses  white  and  red  are  best. 


182 


BUTTERFLIES 

Eyes  aloft,  over  dangerous  places, 

The  children  follow  the  butterflies 

And,  in  the  sweat  of  their  upturned  faces, 

Slash  with  a  net  at  the  empty  skies. 

So  it  goes  they  fall  amid  brambles. 
And  sting  their  toes  on  the  nettle-tops, 
Till  after  a  thousand  scratches  and  scrambles, 
They  wipe  their  brows  and  the  hunting  stops. 

Then  to  quiet  them  comes  their  father 
And  stills  the  riot  of  pain  and  grief, 
Saying,  "  Little  ones,  go  and  gather 
Out  of  my  garden  a  cabbage-leaf. 

"You  will  find  on  it  whorls  and  clots  of 
Dull  gray  eggs  that,  properly  fed, 
Turn,  by  way  of  the  worm,  to  lots  of 
Glorious  butterflies  raised  from  the  dead.    .    .    ." 

183 


184  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

"Heaven  is  beautiful,  Earth  is  ugly" 
The  three-dimensioned  preacher  saith, 
So  we  must  not  look  where  the  snail  and  the  slug  lie 
For  Psyche's  birth.     .     .     .     And  that  is  our 
death! 


MY  LADY'S  LAW 

The  Law  whereby  my  lady  moves 
Was  never  Law  to  me, 
But  'tis  enough  that  she  approves 
Whatever  Law  it  be. 

For  in  that  Law,  and  by  that  Law, 
My  constant  course  I'll  steer; 
Not  that  I  heed  or  deem  it  dread, 
But  that  she  holds  it  dear. 

Tho   Asia  sent  for  my  content 
Her  richest  argosies, 
Those  would  I  spurn,  and  bid  return, 
If  that  should  give  her  ease. 

With  equal  heart  I'd  watch  depart 
Each  spiced  sail  from  sight, 
Sans  bitterness,  desiring  less 
Great  gear  than  her  delight. 

Though  Kings  made  swift  with  many  a  gift 
My  proven  sword  to  hire  — 

185 


186  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

I  would  not  go  nor  serve  'em  so  — 
Except  at  her  desire. 

With  even  mind,  I'd  put  behind 
Adventure  and  acclaim, 
And  clean  give  o'er,  esteeming  more 
Her  favour  than  my  fame. 

Yet  such  am  I,  yea  such  am  I  — 
Sore  bond  and  freest  free, 
The  Law  that  sways  my  lady's  ways 
Is  mystery  to  me! 


THE  NURSING  SISTER 

(Maternity  Hospital) 

Our  sister  sayeth  such  and  such, 
And  we  must  bow  to  her  behests; 
Our  sister  toileth  overmuch, 
Our  little  maid  that  hath  no  breasts. 

A  field  un tilled,  a  web  unwove, 
A  flower  withheld  from  sun  or  bee, 
An  alien  in  the  courts  of  Love, 
And  —  teacher  unto  such  as  we! 

We  love  her,  but  we  laugh  the  while, 

We  laugh,  but  sobs  are  mixed  with  laughter; 

Our  sister  hath  no  time  to  smile, 

She  knows  not  what  must  follow  after 

Wind  of  the  South,  arise  and  blow, 
From  beds  of  spice  thy  locks  shake  free; 
Breathe  on  her  heart  that  she  may  know, 
Breathe  on  her  eyes  that  she  may  see. 

187 


188  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Alas!  we  vex  her  with  our  mirth, 
And  maze  her  with  most  tender  scorn, 
Who  stands  beside  the  gates  of  Birth, 
Herself  a  child  —  a  child  unborn! 

Our  sister  sayeih  such  and  such, 
And  we  must  bow  to  her  behests; 
Our  sister  toileth  overmuch, 
Our  little  maid  that  hath  no  breasts. 


THE  LOVE  SONG  OF  HAR  DYAL 

Alone  upon  the  housetops  to  the  North 
I  turn  and  watch  the  lightning  in  the  sky  — 
The  glamour  of  thy  footsteps  in  the  North 
Come  back  to  me,  Beloved,  or  I  die. 

Below  my  feet  the  still  bazar  is  laid  — 
Far,  far  below  the  weary  camels  lie  — 
The  camels  and  the  captives  of  thy  raid 
Come  back  to  me,  Beloved,  or  I  die! 

My  father's  wife  is  old  and  harsh  with  years 
And  drudge  of  all  my  father's  house  am  I — 
My  bread  is  sorrow  and  my  drink  is  tears. 
Come  back  to  me,  Beloved,  or  I  die! 


180 


A  DEDICATION 

And  they  were  stronger  hands  than  mine 
That  digged  the  Ruby  from  the  earth  — 
More  cunning  brains  that  made  it  worth 
The  large  desire  of  a  king, 
And  stouter  hearts  that  through  the  brine 
Went  down  the  perfect  Pearl  to  bring. 

Lo,  I  have  wrought  in  common  clay 
Rude  figures  of  a  rough-hewn  race, 
Since  pearls  strew  not  the  market  place 
In  this  my  town  of  banishment 
Where  with  the  shifting  dust  I  play, 
And  eat  the  bread  of  discontent. 

Yet  is  there  life  in  that  I  make. 

O  thou  who  knowest,  turn  and  see  — 

As  thou  hast  power  over  me 

So  have  I  power  over  these 

Because  I  wrought  them  for  thy  sake, 

And  breathed  in  them  mine  agonies. 

190 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  191 

Small  mirth  was  in  the  making  —  now 
I  lift  the  cloth  that  cloaks  the  clay, 
And,  wearied,  at  thy  feet  I  lay 
My  wares,  ere  I  go  forth  to  sell. 
The  long  bazar  will  praise,  but  thou  — 
Heart  of  my  heart  —  have  I  done  well? 


MOTHER  O'  MINE 

If  I  were  hanged  on  the  highest  hill, 
Mother  6*  mine,  0  mother  o9  mine! 
I  know  whose  love  would  follow  me  still, 
Mother  o9  mine,  0  mother  <f  mine! 

If  I  were  drowned  in  the  deepest  sea, 
Mother  o9  mine,  0  mother  o9  mine! 
I  know  whose  tears  would  come  down  to  me, 
Mother  o9  mine,  0  mother  o9  mine! 

If  I  were  damned  of  body  and  soul, 

I  know  whose  prayers  would  make  me  whole, 

Mother  o9  mine,  0  mother  o9  mine! 


19* 


THE  ONLY  SON 

She  dropped  the  bar,  she  shot  the  bolt,  she  fed 

the  fire  anew, 
For  she  heard  a  whimper  under  the  sill  and  a 

great  grey  paw  came  through. 
The  fresh  flame  comforted  the  hut  and  shone  on 

the  roof-beam, 
And  the  Only  Son  lay  down  again  and  dreamed 

that  he  dreamed  a  dream. 
The  last  ash  fell  from  the  withered  log  with  the 

click  of  a  falling  spark, 
And  the  Only  Son  woke  up  again,  and  called 

across  the  dark;  — 
"Now  was  I  born  of  womankind  and  laid  in  a 

mother's  breast? 
For  I  have  dreamed  of  a  shaggy  hide  whereon  I 

went  to  rest? 
And  was  I  born  of  womankind  and  laid  on  a 

father's  arm? 
For  I   have   dreamed   of  clashing   teeth   that 

guarded  me  from  harm. 

193 


194  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

And  was  I  born  an  Only  Son  and  did  I  play 

alone? 
For  I  have  dreamed  of  comrades  twain  that  bit 

me  to  the  bone. 
And  did  I  break  the  barley-cake  and  steep  it  in 

the  tyre? 
For  I  have  dreamed  of  a  youngling  kid  new-riven 

from  the  byre. 
For  I  have  dreamed  of  a  midnight  sky  and  a 

midnight  call  to  blood 
And  red-mouthed  shadows  racing  by,  that  thrust 

me  from  my  food. 
'Tis  an  hour  yet  and  an  hour  yet  to  the  rising  of 

the  moon, 
But  I  can  see  the  black  roof-tree  as  plain  as  it 

were  noon. 
'Tis  a  league  and  a  league  to  the  Lena  Falls  where 

the  trooping  blackbuck  go; 
But  I  can  hear  the  little  fawn  that  bleats  behind 

the  doe. 
'Tis  a  league  and  a  league  to  the  Lena  Falls  where 

the  crop  and  the  upland  meet, 
But  I  can  smell  the  wet  dawn-wind  that  wakes 

the  sprouting  wheat. 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  195 

Unbar  the  door,  I  may  not  bide,  but  I  must  out 

and  see 
If  those  are  wolves  that  wait  outside  or  my  own 

kin  to  me!" 


She  loosed  the  bar,  she  slid  the  bolt,  she  opened 

the  door  anon, 
And  a  grey  bitch-wolf  came  out  of  the  dark  and 

fawned  on  the  Only  Son! 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

Oh,  little  did  the  Wolf-Child  care- 
When  first  he  planned  his  home, 

What  city  should  arise  and  bear 
The  weight  and  state  of  Rome. 

A  shiftless,  westward-wandering  tramp, 
Checked  by  the  Tiber  flood, 

He  reared  a  wall  around  his  camp 
Of  uninspired  mud. 

But  when  his  brother  leaped  the  Wall 
And  mocked  its  height  and  make, 

He  guessed  the  future  of  it  all 
And  slew  him  for  its  sake. 

Swift  was  the  blow  —  swift  as  the  thought 
Which  showed  him  in  that  hour 

How  unbelief  may  bring  to  naught 
The  early  steps  of  Power. 

Foreseeing  Time's  imperilled  hopes 
Of  Glory,  Grace,  and  Love  — 

196 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  197 

All  singers,  Caesars,  artists,  Popes  — 
Would  fail  if  Remus  throve. 

He  sent  his  brother  to  the  Gods, 

And,  when  the  fit  was  o'er, 
Went  on  collecting  turves  and  clods 

To  build  the  Wall  once  more! 


THE  EGG-SHELL 

The  wind  took  off  with  the  sunset  — 

The  fog  came  up  with  the  tide, 

When  the  Witch  of  the  North  took  an  Egg-shell 

With  a  little  Blue  Devil  inside. 

"Sink,"  she  said,  "or  swim,"  she  said, 

"It's  all  you  will  get  from  me. 

And  that  is  the  finish  of  him!"  she  said, 

And  the  Egg-shell  went  to  sea. 

The  wind  fell  dead  with  the  midnight  — 

The  fog  shut  down  like  a  sheet, 

When  the  Witch  of  the  North  heard  the  Egg-shell 

Feeling  by  hand  for  a  fleet. 

"Get!"  she  said,  "or  you're  gone,"  she  said, 

But  the  little  Blue  Devil  said  "No!" 

"  The  sights  are  just  coming  on,"  he  said, 

And  he  let  the  Whitehead  go. 

The  wind  got  up  with  the  morning  — 
And  the  fog  blew  off  with  the  rain, 

198 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  199 

When  the  Witch  of  the  North  saw  the  Egg-shell 

And  the  little  Blue  Devil  again. 

"Did  you  swim?"  she  said.     "Did  you  sink?" 

she  said, 

And  the  Little  Blue  Devil  replied: 
"For  myself  I  swam,  but  I  think,"  he  said, 
"There's  somebody  sinking  outside." 


THE  KING'S  TASK 

After  the  sack  of  the  City  when  Rome  was  sunk 

to  a  name 
In  the  years  that  the  lights  were  darkened,  or 

ever  St.  Wilfrid  came 
Low  on  the  borders  of  Britain  (the  ancient  poets 

sing) 
Between  the  Cliff  and  the  Forest  there  ruled  a 

Saxon  King. 
Stubborn  all  were  his  people    from  cottar  to 

overlord  — 
Not  to  be  cowed  by  the  cudgel,  scarce  to  be 

schooled  by  the  sword; 
Quick  to  turn  at  their  pleasure,  cruel  to  cross 

in  their  mood, 
And  set  on  paths  of  their  choosing  as  the  hogs 

of  Andred's  Wood. 
Laws  they  made  in  the  Witan  —  the  laws  of 

flaying  and  fine  — 
Common,  loppage  and  pannage,  the  theft  and 

the  track  of  kine  — 
200 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  201 

Statutes  of  tun  and  market  for  the  fish  and  the 

malt  and  the  meal  — 
The  tax  on  the  Bramber  packhorse  and  the  tax 

on  the  Hastings  keel. 
Over  the  graves  of  the  Druids  and  under  the 

wreck  of  Rome 
Rudely  but  surely  they  bedded  the  plinth  of  the 

days  to  come. 
Behind  the  feet  of  the  Legions  and  before  the 

Norseman's  ire 
Rudely  but  greatly  begat  they  the  framing  of 

state  and  shire. 
Rudely  but  deeply  they  laboured,   and  their 

labour  stands  till  now 
If  we  trace  on  our  ancient  headlands  the  twist  of 

their  eight-ox  plough. 
There  came  a  king  from  Hamtun,  by  Bosenham 

he  came, 
He  filled  Use  with  slaughter,  and  Lewes  he  gave 

to  flame. 
He  smote  while  they  sat  in  the  Witan  —  sudden 

he  smote  and  sore, 
That  his  fleet  was  gathered  at  Selsea  ere  they 

mustered  at  Cymen's  Ore. 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Blithe  went  the  Saxons  to  battle,  by  down  and 

wood  and  mere, 
But  thrice  the  acorns  ripened  ere  the  western 

mark  was  clear. 
Thrice  was  the  beechmast  gathered  and  the 

Beltane  fires  burned 
Thrice,  and  the  beeves  were  salted  thrice  ere 

the  host  returned. 
They  drove  that  king  from  Hamtun,  by  Bosen- 

ham  o'erthrown, 
Out  of  Rugnor  to  Wilton  they  made  his  land 

their  own. 
Camps  they  builded  at  Gilling,  at  Basing  and 

Alresford, 
But  wrath  abode  in  the  Saxons  from  cottar  to 

overlord. 
Wrath  at  the  weary  war-game,  at  the  foe  that 

snapped  and  ran 
Wolf-wise  feigning  and  flying,   and  wolf-wise 

snatching  his  man. 
Wrath  for  their  spears  unready,  their  levies  new 

to  the  blades  — 
Shame  for  the  helpless  sieges  and  the  scornful 

ambuscades. 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  203 

At  hearth  and  tavern  and  market,  wherever 

the  tale  was  told, 
Shame  and  wrath  had  the  Saxons  because  of 

their  boasts  of  old. 
And  some  would  drink  and  deny  it,  and  some 

would  pray  and  atone; 
But  the  most  part,  after  their  anger,  avouched 

that  the  sin  was  their  own. 
Wherefore,  girding  together,  up  to  the  Witan 

they  came, 
And  as  they  had  shouldered  their  bucklers  so 

did  they  shoulder  their  blame. 
For  that   was    the   wont   of   the    Saxons    (the 

ancient  poets  sing) 
And  first  they  spoke  in  the  Witan  and  then  they 

spoke  to  the  King: 
"Edward  King  of  the  Saxons,   thou  knowest 

from  sire  to  son, 
"One  is  the  King  and  his  People  —  in  gain  and 

ungain  one. 
"Count  we  the  gain  together.     With  doub tings 

and  spread  dismays 
"We  have  broken  a  foolish  people  —  but  after 

many  days. 


204  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

"Count  we  the  loss  together.     Warlocks  ham- 
pered our  arms 
"We  were  tricked  as  by  magic,  we  were  turned 

as  by  charms. 
"We  went  down  to  the  battle  and  the  road  was 

plain  to  keep 
"But  our  angry  eyes  were  bolden,  and  we  struck 

as  they  strike  in  sleep  — 
"  Men  new  shaken  from  slumber,  sweating,  with 

eyes  a-stare 
"Little  blows   uncertain   dealt  on  the  useless 

air. 
"Also  a  vision  betrayed  us  and  a  lying  tale 

made  bold 
"That  we  looked  to  hold  what  we  had  not  and 

to  have  what  we  did  not  hold: 
"That  a  shield  should  give  us  shelter  —  that  a 

sword  should  give  us  power 
"A  shield  snatched  up  at  a  venture  and  a  hilt 

scarce  handled  an  hour: 
"That  being   rich   in  the  open,  we  should  be 

strong  in  the  close  — 
"And  the  Gods  would  sell  us  a  cunning  for  the 

day  that  we  met  our  foes. 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  205 

"This  was  the  work  of  wizards,  but  not  with  our 

foe  they  bide 
"In  our  own  camp  we  took  them,  and  their 

names  are  Sloth  and  Pride. 
"Our  pride  was  before  the  battle;  our  sloth  ere 

we  lifted  spear, 
"But  hid  in  the  heart  of  the  people  as  the  fever 

hides  in  the  mere, 
"Waiting  only  the  war-game,  the  heat  of  the 

strife  to  rise 
"As  the  ague  fumes  round  Oxeney  when  the 

rotting  reed-bed  dries. 
"But   now   we   are   purged   of   that   fever  — 

cleansed  by  the  letting  of  blood 
"Something  leaner  of  body  —  something  keener 

of  mood. 
"And  the  men  new  freed  from  the  levies  return 

to  the  fields  again, 
"Matching  a  hundred  battles,  cottar  and  lord 

and  thane, 
"And  they  talk  aloud  in  the  temples  where  the 

ancient  wargods  are. 
"They  thumb  and  mock  and  belittle  the  holy 

harness  of  war. 


206  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

"They  jest  at  the  sacred  chariots,  the  robes  and 

the  gilded  staff. 
"These  things  fill  them  with  laughter,  they  lean 

on  their  spears  and  laugh. 
"The  men  grown  old  in  the  war-game,  hither  and 

thither  they  range — 
"And  scorn  and  laughter  together  are  sire  and 

dam  of  change; 
"And  change  may  be  good  or  evil  —  but  we 

know  not  what  it  will  bring 
"Therefore  our  King  must  teach  us.     That  is 

thy  task,  O  King!" 


POSEIDON'S  LAW 

When  the  robust  and  Brass-bound  Man  com- 
missioned first  for  sea 

His  fragile  raft,  Poseidon  laughed,  and 
"Mariner,"  said  he, 

"Behold,  a  Law  immutable  I  lay  on  thee  and 
thine, 

That  never  shall  ye  act  or  tell  a  falsehood  at  my 
shrine. 

"Let  Zeus  adjudge  your  landward   kin  whose 

votive  meal  and  salt 

At  easy-cheated  altars  win  oblivion  for  the  fault, 
But  you  the  unhoodwinked  wave  shall  test  — 

the  immediate  gulf  condemn  — 
Except  ye  owe  the  Fates  a  jest,  be  slow  to  jest 

with  them. 

"Ye  shall  not  clear  by  Greekly  speech,  nor  cozen 

from  your  path 
The  twinkling  shoal,  the  leeward  beach,  and 

Hadria's  white-lipped  wrath; 

207 


208  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Nor  tempt  with  painted  cloth  for  wood  my 

fraud-avenging  hosts; 
Nor  make  at  all,  or  all  make  good,  your  bulwarks 

and  your  boasts. 


"Now  and  henceforward  serve  unshod,  through 

wet  and  wakeful  shifts, 
A  present  and  oppressive  God,  but  take,  to  aid, 

my  gifts  — 
The  wide  and  windward-opening  eye,  the  large 

and  lavish  hand, 
The  soul  that  cannot  tell  a  lie  —  except  upon  the 

land!" 


In  dromond  and  in  catafract  —  wet,  wakeful, 
windward-eyed  — 

He  kept  Poseidon's  Law  intact  (his  ship  and 
freight  beside), 

But,  once  discharged  the  dromond's  hold,  the 
bireme  beached  once  more, 

Splendaciously  mendacious  rolled  the  Brass- 
bound  Man  ashore. 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  209 

The  thranite  now  and  thalamite  are  pressures 

low  and  high, 
And  where  three  hundred  blades  bit  white  the 

twin-propellers    ply : 
The  God  that  hailed,  the  keel  that  sailed,  are 

changed  beyond  recall, 
But  the  robust  and  Brass-bound  Man  he  is  not 

changed  at  all! 

From  Punt  returned,  from  Phormio's  Fleet, 
from  Javan  and  Gadire, 

He  strongly  occupies  the  seat  about  the  tavern 
fire, 

And,  moist  with  much  Falernian  or  smoked 
Massilian  juice, 

Revenges  there  the  Brass-bound  Man  his  long- 
enforced  truce! 


A  TRUTHFUL  SONG 

The  Bricklayer: 

I  tell  this  tale,  which  is  strictly  true, 
Just  by  way  of  convincing  you 
How  very  little,  since  things  were  made, 
Things  have  altered  in  the  building  trade. 

A  year  ago,  come  the  middle  of  March, 
We  was  building  flats  near  the  Marble  Arch, 
When  a  thin  young  man  with  coal-black  hair 
Came  up  to  watch  us  working  there. 

Now  there  wasn't  a  trick  in  brick  or  stone 
That  this  young  man  hadn't  seen  or  known; 
Nor  there  wasn't  a  tool  from  trowel  to  maul 
But  this  young  man  could  use  'em  all! 

Then  up  and  spoke  the  plumbyers  bold, 
Which  was  laying  the  pipes  for  the  hot  and  cold ; 
"Since  you  with  us  have  made  so  free, 

Will  you  kindly  say  what  your  name  might  be  ?" 

210 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

The  young  man  kindly  answered  them; 
"It  might  be  Lot  or  Methusalem, 
Or  it  might  be  Moses  (a  man  I  hate) 
Whereas  it  is  Pharaoh  surnamed  the  Great. 


"Your  glazing  is  new  and  your  plumbing's 

strange, 

But  otherwise  I  perceive  no  change, 
And  in  less  than  a  month  if  you  do  as  I  bid 
I'd  learn  you  to  build  me  a  Pyramid!" 

The  Sailor: 

/  tell  this  tale,  which  is  stricter  true, 

Just  by  way  of  convincing  you 

How  very  little,  since  things  was  made, 

Things  have  altered  in  the  shipwright's  trade. 

In  Blackwall  Basin  yesterday 

A  China  barque  re-fitting  lay; 

When  a  fat  old  man  with  snow-white  hair 

Came  up  to  watch  us  working  there. 

Now  there  wasn't  a  knot  which  the  riggers 

knew 
But  the  old  man  made  it  —  and  better  too; 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Nor  there  wasn't  a  sheet,  or  a  lift,  or  a  brace, 
But  the  old  man  knew  its  lead  and  place. 

Then  up  and  spake  the  caulkyers  bold, 
Which  was  packing  the  pump  in  the  after- 

hold; 

"Since  you  with  us  have  made  so  free, 
Will  you  kindly  tell  what  your  name  might  be?" 


The  old  man  kindly  answered  them; 

"It  might  be  Japheth,  it  might  be  Shem, 

Or  it  might  be  Ham  (though  his  skin  was 

dark) 
Whereas  it  is  Noah,  commanding  the  Ark. 

"Your  wheel  is  new  and  your  pumps  are 

strange, 

But  otherwise  I  perceive  no  change, 
And  in  less  than  a  week,  if  she  did  not  ground, 
I'd  sail  this  hooker  the  wide  world  round!" 

Both: 

We  tell  these  tales,  which  are  strictest  true, 
Just  by  way  of  convincing  you, 
How  very  little,  since  things  was  made, 
Anything  alters  in  any  one's  trade. 


A  SMUGGLER'S  SONG 

If  you  wake  at  midnight,  and  hear  a  horse's  feet, 
Don't  go  drawing  back  the  blind,  or  looking  in 

the  street, 

Them  that  ask  no  questions  isn't  told  a  lie. 
Watch  the  wall,  my  darling,  while  the  Gentle- 
men go  by! 

Five  and  twenty  ponies, 
Trotting  through  the  dark  — 
Brandy  for  the  Parson, 
'Baccy  for  the  Clerk; 
Laces  for  a  lady,  letters  for  a  spy, 
And  watch  the  wall,   my   darling,   while  the 
Gentlemen  go  by! 

Running  round  the  woodlump  if  you  chance  to 

find 
Little   barrels,   roped    and   tarred,   all   full   of 

brandy-wine, 
Don't  you  shout  to  come  and  look,  nor  use  'em 

for  your  play. 
Put  the  brishwood  back  again  —  and  they'll  be 

gone  next  day! 

218 


214  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

If  you  see  the  stable-door  setting  open  wide; 

If  you  see  a  tired  horse  lying  down  inside; 

If  your  mother  mends  a  coat  cut  about  and 

tore; 
If  the  lining's  wet  and  warm  —  don't  you  ask 

no  more! 

If  you  meet  King  George's  men,  dressed  in  blue 

and  red, 
You  be  careful  what  you  say,  and  mindful  what 

is  said. 
If  they  call  you  "pretty  maid,"  and  chuck  you 

'neath  the  chin, 
Don't  you  tell  where  no  one  is,  nor  yet  where  no 

one's  been! 

Knocks    and    footsteps    round    the    house  - 
whistles  after  dark  — 

You've  no  call  for  running  out  till  the  house- 
dogs bark. 

Trusty's  here,  and  Pincher's  here,  and  see  how 
dumb  they  lie  — 

They  don't  fret  to  follow  when  the  Gentlemen 
goby! 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

If  you  do  as  you've  been  told,  'likely  there's  a 

chance, 
You'll  be  give  a  dainty  doll,  all  the  way  from 

France, 

With  a  cap  of  Valenciennes,  and  a  velvet  hood  — 
A  present  from  the  Gentlemen,  along  o'  being 
good! 

Five  and  twenty  ponies, 
Trotting  through  the  dark, 
Brandy  for  the  Parson, 
'Baccy  for  the  Clerk. 

Them  that  asks  no  questions  isn't  told  a  lie  — 
Watch  the  wall,  my  darling,  while  the  Gentle- 
men go  by! 


KING  HENRY  VII  AND  THE  SHIPWRIGHTS 

(A.D.  1487) 

Harry,  our  King  in  England,  from  London  town 
is  gone, 

And  comen  to  Hamull  on  the  Hoke  in  the  countie 
of  Suthampton. 

For  there  lay  The  Mary  of  the  Tower,  his  ship  of 
war  so  strong, 

And  he  would  discover,  certaynely,  if  his  ship- 
wrights did  him  wrong. 

He  told  not  none  of  his  setting  forth,  nor  yet 

where  he  would  go, 
(But  only  my  Lord  of  Arundel)  and  meanly  did 

he  show, 
In  an  old  jerkin  and  patched  hose  that  no  man 

might  him  mark, 
With  his  frieze  hood  and  cloak  above,  he  looked 

like  any  clerk. 

He  was  at  Hamull  on  the  Hoke  about  the  hour  of 
the  tide, 

216 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  217 

And  saw  the  Mary  haled  into  dock,  the  winter  to 

abide, 
With  all  her  tackle  and  habilaments  which  are 

the  King  his  own; 
But   then   ran   on   his   false   shipwrights   and 

stripped  her  to  the  bone. 

They  heaved  the  main-mast  overboard,  that  was 

of  a  trusty  tree, 
And  they  wrote  down  it  was  spent  and  lost  by 

force  of  weather  at  sea. 
But  they  sawen  it  into  planks  and  strakes  as  far 

as  it  might  go, 
To  maken  beds  for  their  own  wives  and  little 

children  also. 

There  was  a  knave  called  Slingawai,  he  crope 

beneath  the  deck, 
Crying:     "Good  felawes,  come  and  see!     The 

ship  is  nigh  a  wreck! 
For  the  storm  that  took  our  tall  main-mast,  it 

blew  so  fierce  and  fell, 
Alack!  it  hath  taken  the  kettles  and  pans,  and 

this  brass  pott  as  well!" 


218  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

With  that  he  set  the  pott  on  his  head  and  hied 
him  up  the  hatch, 

While  all  the  shipwrights  ran  below  to  find  what 
they  might  snatch; 

All  except  Bob  Brygandyne  and  he  was  a  yeo- 
man good, 

He  caught  Slingawai  round  the  waist  and  threw 
him  on  to  the  mud. 

"I  have  taken  plank  and  rope  and  nail,  without 

the  King  his  leave, 
After  the  custom  of  Portesmouth,  but  I  will  not 

suffer  a  thief. 
Nay,  never  lift  up  thy  hand  at  me!     There's  no 

clean  hands  in  the  trade  — 
Steal  in  measure,"  quo'  Brygandyne.     "There's 

measure  in  all  things  made!" 

"Gramercy,  yeoman!"  said  our  King.     "Thy 

council  liketh  me." 
And  he  pulled  a  whistle  out  of  his  neck  and 

whistled  whistles  three. 
Then  came  my  Lord  of  Arundel  pricking  across 

the  down, 
And  behind  him  the  Mayor  and  Burgesses  of 

merry  Suthampton  town. 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  219 

They  drew  the  naughty  shipwrights  up,  with  the 

kettles  in  their  hands, 
And  bound  them  round  the  forecastle  to  wait 

the  King's  commands. 
But  "Since  ye  have  made  your  beds,"  said  the 

King,  "ye  needs  must  lie  thereon. 
For  the  sake  of  your  wives  and  little  ones  — 

felawes,  get  you  gone!" 


When  they  had  beaten  Slingawai,  out  of  his  own 

lips 
Our  King  appointed  Brygandyne  to  be  Clerk  of 

all  his  ships. 
"Nay,  never  lift  up  thy  hands  to  me  —  there's 

no  clean  hands  in  the  trade. 
But  steal  in  measure,"  said  Harry  our  King. 

"There's  measure  in  all  things  made!" 


God  speed  the  "Mary  of  the  Tower,"  the  "Sover- 
eign'' and  "Grace  Dieu" 

The  "Sweepstakes"  and  the  "Mary  Fortune" 
and  the  "Henry  of  Bristol"  too! 


220  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

All  tall  ships  that  sail  on  the  sea,  or  in  our  harbours 

stand9 
That  they  may  keep  measure  with  Harry  our  King 

and  peace  in  Engeland! 


THE  WET  LITANY 

When  the  water's  countenance 

Blurrs  'twixt  glance  and  second  glance; 

Then  our  tattered  smokes  forerun 

Ashen  'neath  a  silvered  sun; 

When  the  curtain  of  the  haze 

Shuts  upon  our  helpless  ways  — 

Hear  the  Channel  Fleet  at  sea; 

Libera  nos  Dominel 

When  the  engines'  bated  pulse 
Scarcely  thrills  the  nosing  hulls; 
When  the  wash  along  the  side 
Sounds,  a  sudden,  magnified; 
When  the  intolerable  blast 
Marks  each  blindfold  minute  passed; 

When  the  fog-buoy's  squattering  flight 
Guides  us  through  the  haggard  night; 

When  the  warning  bugle  blows; 
221 


222  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

When  the  lettered  doorways  close; 
When  our  brittle  townships  press, 
Impotent,  on  emptiness; 

When  the  unseen  leadsmen  lean 
Questioning  a  deep  unseen; 
When  their  lessened  count  they  tell 
To  a  bridge  invisible; 
When  the  hid  and  perilous 
Cliffs  return  our  cry  to  us; 

When  the  treble  thickness  spread 
Swallows  up  our  next-ahead; 
When  her  siren's  frightened  whine 
Shows  her  sheering  out  of  line; 
When,  her  passage  undiscerned, 
We  must  turn  where  she  has  turned, 

Hear  the  Channel  Fleet  at  sea: 

Libera  nos  Dominel 


THE  BALLAD  OF  MINEPIT  SHAW 

About  the  time  that  taverns  shut 

And  men  can  buy  no  beer, 
Two  lads  went  up  to  the  keepers'  hut 

To  steal  Lord  Pelham's  deer. 


Night  and  the  liquor  was  in  their  heads  — 
They  laughed  and  talked  no  bounds, 

Till  they  waked  the  keepers  on  their  beds 
And  the  keepers  loosed  the  hounds. 

They  had  killed  a  hart,  they  had  killed  a  hind, 

Ready  to  carry  away, 
When  they  heard  a  whimper  down  the  wind 

And  they  heard  a  bloodhound  bay. 

They  took  and  ran  across  the  fern, 

Their  crossbows  in  their  hand, 
Till  they  met  a  man  with  a  green  lantern 

That  called  and  bade  'em  stand. 

223 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

"What  are  ye  doing,  O  Flesh  and  Blood, 

And  what's  your  foolish  will, 
That  you  must  break  into  Minepit  Wood 

And  wake  the  Folk  of  the  Hill?" 

"Oh,  we've  broke  into  Lord  Pelham's  park, 

And  killed  Lord  Pelham's  deer, 
And  if  ever  you  heard  a  little  dog  bark 

You'll  know  why  we  come  here. 

"We  ask  you  let  us  go  our  way, 

As  fast  as  we  can  flee, 
For  if  ever  you  heard  a  bloodhound  bay 

You'll  know  how  pressed  we  be." 

"Oh,  lay  your  crossbows  on  the  bank 
And  drop  the  knife  from  your  hand, 

And  though  the  hounds  are  at  your  flank 
I'll  save  you  where  you  stand!" 

They  laid  their  crossbows  on  the  bank, 
They  threw  their  knives  in  the  wood, 

And  the  ground  before  them  opened  and  sank 
And  saved  'em  where  they  stood. 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  225 

"Oh,  what's  the  roaring  in  our  ears 
That  strikes  us  well-nigh  dumb?" 

"Oh,  that  is  just  how  things  appears 
According  as  they  come." 

"What  are  the  stars  before  our  eyes 
That  strike  us  well-nigh  blind?" 

"Oh,  that  is  just  how  things  arise 
According  as  you  find." 

"And  why's  our  bed  so  hard  to  the  bones 

Excepting  where  it's  cold?" 
"Oh,  that's  because  it  is  precious  stones 

Excepting  where  'tis  gold. 

"Think  it  over  as  you  stand 

For  I  tell  you  without  fail 
If  you  haven't  got  into  Fairyland 

You're  not  in  Lewes  Gaol." 

All  night  long  they  thought  of  it 

And,  come  the  dawn,  they  saw 
They'd  tumbled  into  a  great  old  pit, 

At  the  bottom  of  Minepit  Shaw. 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

And  the  keepers'  hound  had  followed  'em  close, 
And  broke  her  neck  in  the  fall; 

So  they  picked  up  their  knives  and  their  cross- 
bows 
And  buried  the  dog.     That's  all. 

But  whether  the  man  was  a  poacher  too 

Or  a  Pharisee*  so  bold  — 
I  reckon  there's  more  things  told  than  are  true. 

And  more  things  true  than  are  told! 


*A  fairy. 


HERIOT'S  FORD 

"What's  that  that  hirples  at  my  side?" 
The  foe  that  you  must  fight,  my  lord. 
"That  rides  as  fast  as  I  can  ride?" 
The  shadow  of  your  might,  my  .lord. 

"Then  wheel  my  horse  against  the  foe!" 
He's  down  and  overpast,  my  lord. 
You  war  against  the  sunset  glow, 
The  judgment  follows  fast,  my    lord! 

"Oh  who  will  stay  the  sun's  descent?" 
King  Joshua  he  is  dead,  my  lord. 
"I  need  an  hour  to  repent!'* 
'Tis  what  our  sister  said,  my  lord. 

"Oh  do  not  slay  me  in  my  sins!" 
You're  safe  awhile  with  us,  my  lord. 
"Nay,  kill  me  ere  my  fear  begins," 
We  would  not  serve  you  thus,  my  lord. 

"Where  is  the  doom  that  I  must  face? 
Three  little  leagues  away,  my  lord. 

227 


228  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

"Then  mend  the  horses'  laggard  pace!" 
We  need  them  for  next  day,  my  lord. 

"Next  day  —  next  day!     Unloose  my  cords!" 
Our  sister  needed  none,  my  lord. 
You  have  no  mind  to  face  our  swords, 
And  —  where  can  cowards    run,  my  lord  ? 

"You  would  not  kill  the  soul  alive?" 
'Twas  thus  our  sister  cried,  my  lord. 
"I  dare  not  die  with  none  to  shrive," 
But  so  our  sister  died,  my  lord. 

"Then  wipe  the  sweat  from  brow  and  cheek," 
It  runnels  forth  afresh,  my  lord. 
"Uphold  me  —  for  the  flesh  is  weak" 
You've  finished  with  the  Flesh,  my  lord. 


FRANKIE'S  TRADE 

Old  Horn  to  All  Atlantic  said: 

(A-hay  01     To  me  01) 
"Now  where  did  Frankie  learn  his  trade? 
For  he  ran  me  down  with  a  three-reef  mains'le." 

(All  round  the  Horn!) 

Atlantic  answered:  —  "Not  from  me! 
You'd  better  ask  the  cold  North  Sea, 
For  he  ran  me  down  under  all  plain  canvas." 
(All  round  the  Horn!) 

The  North  Sea  answered:  —  "He's  my  man, 
For  he  came  to  me  when  he  began  — 
Frankie  Drake  in  an  open  coaster." 
(All  round  the  Sands!) 

"I  caught  him  young  and  I  used  him  sore, 
So  you  never  shall  startle  Frankie  more, 
Without  capsizing  Earth  and  her  waters." 
(All  round  the  Sands!) 


230  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

"I  did  not  favour  him  at  all. 
I  made  him  pull  and  I  made  him  haul  — 
And  stand  his  trick  with  the  common  sailors. 
(All  round  the  Sands!) 

"I  froze  him  stiff  and  I  fogged  him  blind, 
And  kicked  him  home  with  his  road  to  find 
By  what  he  could  see  in  a  three-day  snow-storm. 
(All  round  the  Sands!) 

"I  learned  him  his  trade  o'  winter  nights, 
'Twixt  Mardyk  Fort  and  Dunkirk  lights 
On  a  five-knot  tide  with  the  forts  a-firing. 
(All  round  the  Sands!) 

"Before  his  beard  began  to  shoot, 
I  showed  him  the  length  of  the  Spaniard's  foot  — 
And  I  reckon  he  clapped  the  boot  on  it  later. 
(All  round  the  Sands!) 

"If  there's  a  risk  which  you  can  make, 
That's  worse  than  he  was  used  to  take 
Nigh  every  week  in  the  way  of  his  business; 
(All  round  the  Sands!) 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  231 

"If  there's  a  trick  that  you  can  try, 
Which  he  hasn't  met  in  time  gone  by, 
Not  once  or  twice,  but  ten  times  over; 
(All  round  the  Sands!) 

"If  you  can  teach  him  aught  that's  new, 

(A-hay  0!     To  me  0!) 
I'll  give  you  Bruges  and  Niewport  too, 
And  the  ten  tall  churches  that  stand  between 


Storm  along  my  gallant  Captains! 
(All  round  the  Horn!) 


THE  JUGGLER'S  SONG 

When  the  drums  begin  to  beat 

Down  the  street, 

When  the  poles  are  fetched  and  guyed, 

WThen  the  tight-rope's  stretched  and  tied, 

When  the  dance-girls  make  salaam, 

When  the  snake-bag  wakes  alarm, 

When  the  pipes  set  up  their  drone. 

When  the  sharp-edged  knives  are  thrown, 

When  the  red-hot  coals  are  shown, 

To  be  swallowed  by  and  bye  — 

Arre  Brethren,  here  come  I! 

Stripped  to  loin-cloth  in  the  sun 
Search  me  well  and  watch  me  close! 
Tell  me  how  my  tricks  are  done  — 
Tell  me  how  the  mango  grows? 

Give  a  man  who  is  not  made 
To  his  trade 

Swords  to  fling  and  catch  again, 
Coins  to  ring  and  snatch  again, 

SS3 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  233 

Men  to  harm  and  cure  again, 
Snakes  to  charm  and  lure  again  — 
He'll  be  hurt  by  his  own  blade, 
By  his  serpents  disobeyed, 
By  his  clumsiness  bewrayed, 
By  the  people  laughed  to  scorn. 
So  'tis  not  with  juggler  born! 

Pinch  of  dust  or  withered  flower, 
Chance-flung  nut  or  borrowed  staff, 
Serve  his  need  and  shore  his  power 
Bind  the  spell  or  loose  the  laugh! 


THORKILD'S  SONG 

There's  no  wind  along  these  seas, 

Out  oars  for  Stavanger! 

Forward  all  for  Stavanger! 

So  we  must  wake  the  white-ash  breeze, 

Let  fall  for  Stavanger! 

A  long  pull  for  Stavanger! 

Oh,  hear  the  benches  creak  and  strain! 
(A  long  pull  for  Stavanger!) 
She  thinks  she  smells  the  Northland  rain! 
(A  long  pull  for  Stavanger!) 

She  thinks  she  smells  the  Northland  snow, 
And  she's  as  glad  as  we  to  go. 

She  thinks  she  smells  the  Northland  rime, 
And  the  dear  dark  nights  of  winter-time. 

She  wants  to  be  at  her  own  home  pier, 
To  shift  her  sails  and  standing  gear. 

234 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  235 

She  wants  to  be  in  her  winter-shed, 
To  strip  herself  and  go  to  bed. 

Her  very  bolts  are  sick  for  shore, 
And  we  —  we  want  it  ten  times  more! 

So  all  you  Gods  that  love  brave  men, 
Send  us  a  three-reef  gale  again! 

Send  us  a  gale,  and  watch  us  come, 
With  close-cropped  canvas  slashing  home! 

But  —  there's  no  wind  on  all  these  seas, 
A  long  pull  for  Stavanger! 
So  we  must  wake  the  white-ash  breeze, 
A  long  pull  for  Stavanger! 


SONG  OF  THE  MEN'S  SIDE 

(Neolithic) 

Once  we  feared  The  Beast  —  when  he  followed 

us  we  ran, 

Ran  very  fast  though  we  knew 
It  was  not  right  that  The  Beast  should  master 

Man; 

But  what  could  we  Flint-workers  do? 
The  Beast  only  grinned  at  our  spears  round  his 

ears  — 

Grinned  at  the  hammers  that  we  made; 
But  now  we  will  hunt  him  for  the  life  with  the 

Knife  — 
And  this  is  the  Buyer  of  the  Blade! 

Room  for  his  shadow  on  the  grass  —  let  it  pass  I 
To  left  and  right  —  stand  clear! 

This  is  the  Buyer  of  the  Blade  —  be  afraid! 
This  is  the  great  god  Tyr! 

Tyr  thought  hard  till  he  hammered  out  a  plan, 
For  he  knew  it  was  not  right 

286 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS  237 

(And  it  is  not  right)  that  The  Beast  should 

master  Man; 

So  he  went  to  the  Children  of  the  Night. 
He  begged  a  Magic  Knife  of  their  make  for  our 

sake. 

When  he  begged  for  the  Knife  they  said: 
"  The  price  of  the  Knife  you  would  buy  is  an  eye ! " 
And  that  was  the  price  he  paid. 

Tell  it  to  the  Barrows  of  the  Dead  —  run  ahead! 

Shout  it  so  the  Women's  Side  can  hear! 
This  is  the  Buyer  of  the  Blade  —  be  afraid! 

This  is  the  great  god  Tyr! 

Our  women  and  our  little  ones  may  walk  on  the 

Chalk, 

As  far  as  we  can  see  them  and  beyond. 
We  shall  not  be  anxious  for  our  sheep  when  we  keep 

Tally  at  the  shearing-pond. 
We  can  eat  with  both  our  elbows  on  our  knees, 

if  we  please, 

We  can  sleep  after  meals  in  the  sun; 
For  Shepherd  of  the  Twilight  is  dismayed  at  the 

Blade, 
Feet-in-the-Night  have  run! 


238  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Dog-without-a-Master   goes    away    (Hai,    Tyr 

aie!), 
Devil-in-the-Dusk  has  run! 

Then: 

Room  for  his  shadow  on  the  grass  —  let  it  pass! 

To  left  and  right  —  stand  clear! 
This  is  the  Buyer  of  the  Blade  —  be  afraid! 
This  is  the  great  god  Tyr! 


THE  FOUR  ANGELS 

As  Adam  lay  a-dreaming  beneath  the  Apple  Tree 
The  Angel  of  the  Earth  came  down,  and  offered 
Earth  in  fee. 

But  Adam  did  not  need  it, 
Nor  the  plough  he  would  not  speed  it, 
Singing:  —  "Earth  and  Water,  Air  and  Fire, 
What  more  can  mortal  man  desire?" 
(The  Apple  Tree's  in  bud.) 

As  Adam  lay  a-dreaming  beneath  the  Apple  Tree 
The  Angel  of  the  Waters  offered  all  the  Seas  in 
fee. 

But  Adam  would  not  take  'em, 
Nor  the  ships  he  wouldn't  make  'em, 
Singing:  —  "Water,  Earth  and  Air  and  Fire, 
What  more  can  mortal  man  desire?" 
(The  Apple  Tree's  in  leaf.) 

As  Adam  lay  a-dreaming  beneath  the  Apple  Tree 
The  Angel  of  the  Air  he  offered  all  the  Air  in  fee. 
But  Adam  did  not  crave  it, 

239 


240  SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Nor  the  flight  he  wouldn't  brave  it, 
Singing:  —  "Air  and  Water,  Earth  and  Fire, 
What  more  can  mortal  man  desire?" 
(The  Apple  Tree's  in  bloom.) 

As  Adam  lay  a-dreaming  beneath  the  Apple  Tree 
The  Angel  of  the  Fire  rose  up  and  not  a  word 
said  he. 

But  he  wished  a  flame  and  made  it, 
And  in  Adam's  heart  he  laid  it, 
Singing: — "Fire,  Fire,  burning  Fire, 

Stand    up    and    reach    your   heart's 

desire!" 
(The  Apple  Blossom's  set.) 

As  Adam  was  a-working  outside  of  Eden-Wall, 
He  used  the  Earth,  he  used  the  Seas,  he  used  the 
Air  and  all; 

And  out  of  black  disaster 
He  arose  to  be  the  master 

Of  Earth  and  Water,  Air  and  Fire, 
But  never  reached  his  heart's  desire ! 
(The  Apple  Tree's  cut  down!) 


A  SONG  OF  KABIR 

My  brother  kneels,  so  saith  Kabir, 

To  stone  and  brass  in  heathen-wise, 

But  in  my  brother's  voice  I  hear 

My  own  unanswered  agonies. 

His  God  is  as  his  fates  assign 

His  prayer  is  all  the  world's  —  and  mine! 


241 


FIRST  LINE  INDEX 


About  the  time  that  taverns 
shut 

After  the  sack  of  the  City 
when  Rome  was  sunk  to  a 
name 

All  day  long  to  the  judgment- 
seat  

All  the  world  over,  nursing 
their  scars 

Alone  upon  the  housetops  to 
the  North  .... 

And  if  ye  doubt  the  tale  I 
tell  . 

"And  some  are  sulky,  while 
some  will  plunge"  . 

And  they  were  stronger 
hands  than  mine  .  .  . 

As  Adam  lay  a-dreaming 
beneath  the  Apple  Tree  . 

B 

Beasts  are  very  wise,  The 
Beat  off  in  our  last  fight  were 

we?        

Because  I  sought  it  far  from 

men 

Bees!    Bees!    Hark   to   your 

bees!       ...... 

Before  my  spring  I  garnered 

autumn's  gain        .      . 
Between  the  waving  tufts  of 

jungle-grass      .... 
Bricklayer:  I  tell  this  tale, 

which    is    strictly     true. 

The 

By  the  Hoof  of  the  Wild 

Goatuptossed  .... 


Pag  C  Page 

Celt  in  all  his  variants  from 

223          Builth  to  Ballyhoo,  The    .       65 

Cities    and    Thrones    and 

Powers         xi 

200       Cry  "Murder"  in  the  mar- 
ket-place and  each  51 
70 

D 

Dark  children  of  the  mere 
189  and  marsh  ....  171 

Doors  were  wide,  the  story 
174  saith,  The  ...  173 


52 


190      Eddi,  priest  of  St.  Wilfrid      39 
Excellent    herbs    had     our 

239          fathers  of  old     ....     101 
Eyes  aloft,  over  dangerous 
places 183 

172 

Fanner  of  the  Augustan  Age, 

no       A    ......     72 

For  a  season  there  must  be 


111 


pain 


152 


From  the  wheel  and  the  drift 
of  Things 154 

174  Q 

170      "Goldis  for  the  mistress".     .       32 
Go  stalk  the  red  deer  o'er 

the  heather 51 

210      Gull    shall    whistle    in    his 
wake,     the     blind     wave 
168          break  in  fire,  The  ...       93 
243 


FIRST  LINE  INDEX 


H 


Pag. 


Harry,  our  King  in  England, 

from  London  town  is  gone  210 
He  drank  strong  waters  and 

his  speech  was  coarse  .  55 
Here  come  I  to  my  own 

again 121 

"How  far  is  St.  Helena  from 

a  little  child  at  play?"  .     .       60 


I 


I    am    the    land    of    their 

fathers 8 

I  closed  and  drew  for  my 

love's  sake 19 

"If  I  have  taken  the  com- 
mon clay" 114 

If  I  were  hanged  on  the 

highest  hill  ....  192 
I  followed  my  Duke  ere  I 

was  a  lover  ....  21 
If  Thought  can  reach  to 

Heaven 136 

If  you  can  keep  your  head 

when  all  about  you  .  .  119 
If  you  wake  at  midnight, 

and  hear  a  horse's  feet  .  213 
I  have  been  given  my  charge 

to  keep 42 

I  know  not  in  Whose  hands 

are  laid 124 

I'm  just  in  love  with  all  these 

three 10 

In  the  daytime,  when  she 

moved  about  me  ...  54 
"  I  see  the  grass  shake  in  the 

sun  for  leagues  on  either 

hand" SO 

It  was  not  in  the  open  fi  ght  .  53 
I  was  very  well  pleastd  with 

what  I  knowed  12 


Land  of  our  Birth,  we  pledge 
to  thee 117 

Lark  will  make  her  hymn  to 
God,  The 114 

Law  whereby  my  lady 
moves,  The 185 

'Less  you  want  your  toes 
trod  off  you'd  better  get 
back  at  once  ....  176 

"Let  us  now  praise  famous 
men" 95 

Life's  all  getting  and  giving  .     166 

Look,  you  have  cast  out  love !      5  0 

M 

Mithras,  God  of  the  Morn- 
ing, our  trumpets  waken 
the  Wall! 44 

Much  I  owe  to  the  Land  that 
grew 129 

My  brother  kneels,  so  saith 
Kabir 241 

My  father's  father  saw  it 
not  . 76 

My  new  cut  ashlar  takes  the 
light 87 

N 

Neither  the  harps  nor  the 
crowns  amused  .  .  .  140 

Not  though  you  die  to-night, 
O  Sweet,  and  wail  .  .  52 

Not  with  an  outcry  to  Allah 
nor  any  complaining  .  .  63 

Now  it  is  not  good  for  the 
Christian's  health  to  hus- 
tle the  Aryan  brown  .  .  110 

Now  we  are  come  to  our 
Kingdom 17 


Jubal  sang  of  the  Wrath  of 
God 


Of  all  the  trees  that  grow  so 

fair 23 

Oh,    little    did    the    Wolf- 

91  Child  care 100 

244 


FIRST  LINE  INDEX 


Old  Horn  to   All   Atlantic 
said      .      .      .      .      .      . 

Old  Mother  Laidinwocl 
had  nigh  twelve  months 
been  dead"  .... 

Once  we  feared  The  Beast 

One    man    in    a    thousand, 
Solomon  says    .... 

Our  Fathers  in  a  wondrous 
age 

Our  Lord  Who  did  the  Ox 
command 

Our  sister  sayeth  such  and 
such 

Over  the  edge  of  the  purple 
down 


Pit  where  the  buffalo  cooled 
his  hide 

Prophets  have  honour  all 
over  the  Earth. 


Queen     Bess 
daughter 


was    Harry'* 


Ride  with  an  idle  whip,  ride 
with  an  unused  heel  .  . 

Rome  never  looks  where  she 
treads 

Roses  red  and  roses  white 


See  you  the  ferny  ride  that 
steals 

She  dropped  the  bar,  she 
shot  the  bolt,  she  fed  the 
fire  anew  .  .  .  .  . 

Shove  off  from  the  wharf- 
edge!  Steady!  .  .  . 

So  we  settled  it  all  when  the 
itorm  was  done  .  .  . 

Stone's  throw  out  on  either 
hand,  A 


Page 
229 


142 
236 

56 

104 

35 

187 
150 


55 


145 


53 

78 
182 


"Stopped  in  the  straight 
when  the  race  was  his 
own!"  ......  51 

Stranger  within  my  gate, 
The  .......  80 

Strangers  drawn  from  the 
ends  of  the  earth  ...  14 


Take   of   English   earth   as 

much      ......       28 

Tell  it  to  the  locked-up 

trees       ......       26 

The  torn  boughs  trailing  o'er 

the  tusks  aslant  .  .  .  171 
There  are  three  degrees  of 

bliss       ......     128 

There  is  pleasure  in  the  wet, 

wet  clay  .....  112 
There  is  sorrow  enough  in 

the  natural  way  .  .  .  184 
There's  a  convict  more  in 

the  Central  Jail  ...  175 
There's  no  wind  along  these 

seas  .......     234 

There  was  a  strife  'twixt 

man  and  maid  ....  112 
There  were  three  friends  that 

buried  the  fourth  .  .  115 
They  burnt  a  corpse  upon 

the  sand  .....  53 
They  killed  a  child  to  please 

the  Gods  .....  170 
They  shut  the  road  through 

the  woods  .....  8 
This  I  saw  when  the  rites 

were  done  .....  109 
Three  things  make  earth 

unquiet  .....  99 
Thrones,  Powers,  Domin- 

ions, Peoples,  Kinps  .  .  74 
To-night,  God  knows  what 

thing  shall  tide  ...  54 
To  the  Heavens  above  us  131 


193 
178 

u 

Unto  whose  use  the  pregnant 
54          tuns  &T2  poised      .     .     .     177 
245 


FIRST  LINE  INDEX 


Y  Page 

Valour  and  Innocence     .     .     148 

w 

Weald  is  good,  the  Downs 

are  best,  The  ....  11 
We  meet  in  an  evil  land  .  .  109 
What  is  a  woman  that  you 

forsake  her  ....  48 
What  is  the  moral?  Who 

rides  may  read ....  58 
"What's  that  that  hirples  at 

my  side?" 227 

WThen  a  lover  hies  abroad  .  Ill 
When  first  by  Eden  Tree  .  106 
When  I  left  Rome  for 

Lalage'ssake  ...  82 
When  the  drums  begin  to 

beat 232 

When  the  Earth  was  sick 

and  the  Skies  were  gray  .  50 
When  the  Great  Ark,  in  Vigo 

Bay 88 


When  the  robust  and  Brass-    Page 
bound  Man  commissioned 
first  for  sea       ....     207 

When   the   water's   counte- 
nance      221 

Where's  the  lamp  that  Hero 
lit 127 

Who  gives  him  the  Bath      .       46 

Who  knows  the  heart  of  the 
Christian?   ....  67 

Wind  took  off  with  the  sun- 
set, The       198 

Wolf-cub  at  even  lay  hid  in 
the  com,  The   ....     114 

World   hath  set  its    heavy 
yoke,  The 52 


Yet  at  the  last,  ere  our  spear- 
men had  found  him      .     .115 
Your  jar  of  Virginny       .      .       84 
Your  tiercel's  too  long  at 
hack,  Sir 156 


246 


TITLE  INDEX 


A 

Page 

fc 

Page 

Astrologer's  Song,  An    . 

131 

Eddi's  Service      .... 

39 

Egg-shell,  The      .     .     .     + 

198 

B 

Ballad    of    Minepit    Shaw, 

F 

The                         .      . 

223 

•p    •    •       »  o«              rm_ 

"Beast  and  Man  in  India" 
—  Chapter  Headings  . 
Elephant,  The    .      .     . 

170 
171 

raines  siege,  Ine     . 
Four  Angels,  The 
Frankie's  Trade  .... 

239 
229 

Goat,  The     .     .     .     . 

170 

Oxen,  The     .... 

171 

Q 

Pigs  and  Buffaloes  . 
Bee  Boy's  Song,  The      .     . 
Bees  and  the  Flies,  The 

172 
138 

72 

Gallic  's  Song  
Gow's  Watch       .... 

70 
156 

Blue  Roses      

182 

British-Roman  Song,  A  . 

76 

H 

Brookland  Road 

12 

Butterflies       ... 

183 

Hadramauti 

67 

"By  the  Hoof  of  the  Wild 
Goat'     

168 

Harp    Song    of    the    Dane 
Women        

48 

Heriot's  Ford       .... 

227 

c 

Heritage,  The      .... 

104 

Captive,  The  

63 

f 

Carol  A 

35 

i 

Chapter  Headings:   .      .  50, 

109, 

H    

119 

113,  170,  173,  174,  177 

Charm  A 

28 

Children's  Song,  The      .      . 

117 

J 

"Cities    and    Thrones    and 

Powers  *  * 

XI 

Jester,  The     

126 

City  of  Sleep,  The      .      .     . 
Cold  Iron              .... 

150 
32 

Jubal  and  Tubal  Cain    .      . 
Juggler's  Song,  The  .     .     . 

91 
232 

Cuckoo  Song  

26 

K 

D 

Kim  —  Chapter  Headings   . 

177 

Dedication.  A 

190 

Kingdom,  The     .... 

17 

247 


TITLE  INDEX 


Page 
King  Henry  VII  and  the 

Shipwrights      .     .      .      .     216 
King's  Task,  The      ...     200 


Life's   Handicap  —  Chapter 

Headings 173 

Return   of   Imray, 

The ITS 

Without  Benefit  of 

Clergy       ....     174 
Light     That     Failed,     The 

—  Chapter  Headings  .      .     118 
Looking-Glass,  The         .      .     145 
Love   Song   of   Har   Dyal, 
The.  .     189 


M 

Many    Inventions  —  Chap- 
ter Headings    ....  174 
Collected         .      .         .177 
Lost  Legion,  The     .      .  175 
Matter  of  Fact,  A    .      .  175 
My  Lord  the  Ele- 
phant       ....  176 
Mother  O'  Mine  ....  192 
My  Lady's  Law  ....  185 
"My  New  Cut  Ashlar"       .  37 


N 


Naulahka,     The  —  Chapter 

Headings 109 

Necessitarian,  The    ...  124 

New  Kinghthood,  The   .      .  46 

Nursing  Sister,  The        .     .  187 


Pict  Song,  A         ....  78 
Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills 
—  Chapter  Headings  .     .  50 
Bank  Fraud,  A  ...  55 
Bronckhorst,      Di- 
vorce Case,  The  .     .  54 
By  Word  of  Mouth  .     .  52 
Conversion  of  Aure- 
lain     McGoggin, 

The 53 

Cupid's  Arrow   ...  55 

False  Dawn  ....  54 

His  Wedded  Wife    .      .  51 

In  Error 53 

In    the    House    of 

Suddhoo    ....  54 
In  the  Pride  of  His 

Youth        ....  51 

Lispeth 50 

Other  Man,  The      .      .  50 

Pig 51 

Rout  of  the  White 

Hussars,  The  ...  53 

Thrown  Away    ...  52 

Tod's  Amendment    .      .  52 

"Poor  Honest  Men"       .      .  84 

Poseidon's  Law    ....  207 

"Power  of  the  Dog,  The,"     .  134 

Prairie,  The 30 

Prayer   of    Miriam    Cohen, 

The 154 

Prodigal  Son,  The     ...  121 

Prophets  at  Home     ...  90 

Puck's  Song 5 

Puzzler,  The 65 


Queen's  Men,  The 


148 


Old  Mother  Laidinwool  .     .  142 

Only  Son,  The     ....  193 

"Our  Fathers  Also"        .      .  74 

"Our  Fathers  of  Old"    ,  101 


Rabbi's  Song,  The    ...  136 

Recall,  The 3 

Return  of  the  Children,  The .  140 

"Rimini" 82 

Romulus  and  Remus      .     .  196 

Run  of  the  Downs,  The  .     .  11 


248 


TITLE  INDEX 


Sack  of  the  Gods,  The  .  . 
St.  Helena  Lullaby,  A  .  . 
School  Song,  A  .... 

"  Servant  When  He  Reigneth, 
A"    ....... 

Sir  Richard's  Song    .     . 
Smuggler's  Song,  A  .     . 
Song  of  Kabir,  A.      .     . 
Song  of  the  Fifth  River 
Song  of  the  Men's  Side  . 
Song  of  the  Red  War-Boat 
Song  of  Travel,  A      .      . 
Song  to  Mithras,  A  .     . 
Stranger,  The       ... 


Tarrant  Moss 
Thorkild's  Song 


60 
95 


99 

21 

213 

241 

106 

286 

178 

1£7 

44 

80 


19 
£34 


Thousandth  Man,  The  .  . 
Three-Part  Song,  A  ... 
Tree  Song,  A  ..... 
Truthful  Song,  A  ... 
Two-sided  Man,  The  .  . 

V 

Voortrekker,  The      ... 

w 

Way  Through  the  Woods, 
The  ....... 

Wet  Litany,  The       .     . 
"When  the  Great  Ark" 
Widower,  The      ... 
Winners,  The       ... 
Wishing  Caps,  The  .     . 


56 

10 

2S 

210 

129 


93 


8 
221 

88 
152 

58 
166 


£49 


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THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


